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HUB 360
This merry little haunt wasn't familiar to Nick, but the address was correct, for what it was worth. There weren't many buildings with penthouses intact, but Hancock had told him to show up here, so here he was. Honestly, as he came up the stairs, Nick wasn't entirely certain what to expect.
Was it a stash house? No, Hancock and he had a tentative understanding about chems. Nick didn't comment and Hancock didn't do them right in front of him if he could help it. It was about the best the synth could hope for, and a fair improvement on their previous arrangement of: nothing.
Was it a new settlement? Bit of a stretch but Evaris did have ecclectic moods.
Maybe he...Nick came up blank. He didn't have a clue or a chance in hell of divining one, so he shouldn't waste the breath (figurative) trying to hash it out. He just stuffed his hands in his pockets, kept his revolver at the ready in case this locale wasn't secure yet, and trudged up more flights of stairs than he cared to count.
At the top he stepped out of the stairwell and through time. One second he was in the Commonwealth and the next he was standing on fine plush carpet in Boston, MA. This place was an absolute time warp, like walking into a photograph, and Nick was entirely thrown as he let the door behind him close and cautiously wandered in.
No turrets...so that was a start.
Cameras? Didn't spot one, didn't see any mics either but he was sure there were a few. This place had electricity and...was that hum an airconditioner?
"Where the hell am I?"
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Anyone else trash this place and I'd make 'em foot the bill... not you, Slick Nick. Think I'd like to see the kinda mess you'd make
[ Really Synth-dude, you left the door wide open for that one. Hancock's not going to NOT take that invitation. He makes a show of twisting Nick's tie slowly around his fist, forcing the taller framed man to bend to meet him. ]
Yeah. Definitely the night stands. They're mini-fridges. [ Hancock usually rides the razor's edge between sarcasm and sincerity, but this statement veers firmly towards the prior. ] I can have a couple seconds first, right...?
[ Mocking-mischief softness because, he had spent this whole event playing King Pin so far. ]
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Hancock does him a favor though and bucks the current trend, voice pitched low because they're so close, and the shift takes Nick right out of this surreal fantasy he's stumbled in to. It's for the best and because he'd rather be in room with Hancock than with Hancock in a Room, contrary and ridiculous as that sounded.]
For you? [I got all the time in the world.]
Whatever you need, I'm in no hurry to get anywhere.
[Nick, in that same pitched quiet tone.] Are they actually? Fridges that is? How the hell was this joint just sitting here with nobody the wiser?
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Didn't wanna make no assumptions [ He lays on the sweetness a bit thick-- playful, friendly poking-fun. It's not untrue, though. That tie stays tight in the Ghoul's fist though, even as he takes his time combing his gaze from the Synth's eyes, down his throat. It's harder to see sparks in the florescent light. He's perfectly comfortable playing the contradicting tunes of Sweet and Commanding romance, at once. ]
Uh-huh. Wish you could taste the Nuka Cherry I popped out
[ As he speaks he drifts in, lets the words drag his rough lips against the synthetic skin of Nick's throat. It's familiar ground, yeah, but sue him for using what he knows. He doesn't go straight for the kill, spending a few moments in not-quite clumsy, affectionate nuzzling. ]
Jesus it was actually a fuckin' pain in the ass to crack this place. Meant running half-way around the damn Commonwealth and back and no less than 3 different shoot outs.
[ This time it's just the barest brush of teeth that catch the ragged edge of Nick's synth-skin. ]
Worth it, I'm thinkin'. Not easy to make an ol' Synth smile like a new model
Spinny beachball of death buffering.
It has him remembering that thumb on his lip, that little gesture, of all things, stuck with Nick. It was such a delicate, precise move, enough that it didn't come close to snagging on anything, and stayed that way even when Hancock was crawling out of his skin with the need to move. Between this and that, a facet of John Hancock is coming into focus for him.
For just a moment, Nick actually wonders if he did honestly romance him. If he has a fondness for these sorts of gestures, it's possible--
He has trouble hanging on to that meandering train of thought as Hancock delicately presses up. He's been explaining about this place, what it took to get in--Nick hadn't been paying even the slightest attention to the story. The drag of teeth, barely there, connecting a circut for a flickering second, does very little to help him pay more attention.]
Yeah?
[The question is pitched low and has more gravel to it than Nick is usually wont. A second later his brain catches up with what Hancock said and his dazed expression goes suprised. So, he hadn't just been invited to show it off. Showing it off had been for him, it was Hancock's inversion of Nick's own contrary line of thought.
He'd been going for forward, had been eager to live a shade of that fantasy, but he has to ask:]
You wanna show me the rest first?
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... Okay, okay, he's more than a little gratified by Nick's-- eagerness? Can he call it that? Feels nice in his head anyway-- and kicks up a nice vivid replay of the look on the Synth's face when he was swallowing Hancock down like it was a built in design function. Perfectly, blissfully agonized. Yeah, Eager, the Ghoul likes. ]
Not like we ain't got time. [ Another memory registers-- something Hancock didn't get much time to experiment with, last time. His motions veer back towards affectionate composition as he gently butts his cheek against Nick's, not unlike a cat.
Then the flat of his tongue (so much bolder than the timid tip) traces up the shell of Nick's ear, lewd. ]
Guess I'm flattered to be your Top Priority here
Nick spamming f5.
The weight of Hancock's hand pulling down on his tie is just about the only thing keeping Nick's processors happy at the moment. He might go a little stir crazy without it. If he weren't a synth, being held bent down like this would have gotten uncomfortable by now. Fortunately, the servos in his lower back are still in good condition. He can stay like this as long as Hancock wants him to.
When Hancock nuzzles back up, Nick has officially be lulled into the moment, thinking this is what the ghoul is driving at. The sudden influx of touch and texture and that rasping, primising, lurid tone is enough to shock his system. Nick hitches, everything about him except for those fans going still for a beat or two. When he's back, it's with a silent huff of laughter through his nose. He tugs on his makeshift leash to shift and try looking at Hancock's face but he'll only manage it if Hancock feels like it.]
Know how much you like the limelight.
[That thought trips some distant one in the back of Nick's head. In a place this well kept, surely the owner would have left some fancy duds in their closet. He shoves that aside for future investigation--getting someone dressed up is hardly what he'd prefer right now. No, what he's prefer right now is more contact--he's already straining himself rechecking inputs over and over.
Hancock keeps teasing him and he's going to have to do something about it.]
I'm glad to be of service.
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The Ghoul does slip into half a moment of caution when that telling glitch locks up his partner; it's gratifying, yeah, but it also wouldn't be very suave of Hancock to let his date drop onto the polished hardwood. The Synth is fully cognizant a moment later though, and it's a glitch coded as just the type of flustered reaction Hancock's aiming for. His grip on Nick's tie loosens after a beat, just enough for him to enjoy the split second of loaded, commanding quiet. ]
Yeah well... I did go and clear my whole evening for ya, so we got the time. Dinner, Show, Afterparty. Metaphorically. [ The last word he says like a filthy cuss, sparing a moment to reach up and adjust his own hat, the motion bragging a far cooler state of relaxation than the Ghoul truly exists in. He's got a killer poker face, incidentally.
He starts to recede in slow, lounging strides; hand still locked on Nick's tie but not pulling, just grasping the slacked fabric, more an invitation to follow than a demand.
The bed is easily the centerpiece of the room, set in the dead middle of the space, framed by a large window protected with thick metal shutters. Aside from the fancy night stands there's also a massive desk, built in wall shelving, a computer terminal, a closet-- not to mention a bunch of ritzy, expensive clutter.]
C'mon then [ he gives the tie the slightest of pulls ] Heel. [ He figures it's more than fair to turn the command on Nick; after all, he had offered it to the Synth first, on their initial date. ]
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Damn, old age is making him exceptionally sappy. He's always been a romantic but being this besotted is a little unbecoming.
He resigns himself to being unbecoming and, at that tug and command, does as ordered. He moves to stand just at Hancock's side, watching him with lamplit eyes and an expression of absolute interested. All his focus is devoted to Hancock but, embarassing as that might read, Nick doesn't bother to play it off.
Nick doesn't move beyond that, though, given that the original command was one to back off. He fairly sure that's not what Hancock has in mind, scolding him for getting a little out of hand, requesting he let up, but he briefly entertains the idea.]
Bit of a mixed message there, Johnny. [Said conversationally, like he isn't currently being led on a leash. Nick's being cheeky as he adds his next thought. It's mostly said for the tease in it; Nick's doubtful they'll ever require the insurance of a legitimate safe word.] Might need a new word if you use it like that.
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Point in Case. Calling a guy a 'John' is fairly common slang, especially in the context of such hot blooded romance-- it just also so happens to be Hancock's first name, and something in the way Nick says it throws the Ghoul for an unexpected loop. He feels like he missed several stairs without realizing he was on a staircase. Good-dizzy, grasping for a words, for a few more seconds than it usually takes. ]
Good point. Guess I'll stick to quitting if ya tell me stop, unless you wanna pick something fancier
[ He doesn't quite fumble his composure, but the call is close. His gaze directs the Synth with the warmth and force of a physical touch to the edge of the master bed. ]
G'on, sit. [ He holds harder onto his own commanding aura, like testing the familiar comfort of a gun's grip when the shots start to sound. His pulse feels like his heart has jumped into this throat. Thank god for that (almost) flawless Poker Face. ]
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The order is given with a heavy glance and Nick watches as he looks down and back up before he can bring himself to move. When he turns and sits on the edge of the bed, there is a bit of tentativeness to the move. He knows his own bed is reinforced and he's not keen on being the first to sit on this one and the last just because he weighs the same as a box of lead. Nick sinks further than he expects into the bedding, a testament to its luxuriousness, and then comes to a comfortable stop--but not a solid one.
Are you kidding? It's not strung up? This fucking thing has a box spring on it too?
He's immediately distracted by that thought and turns his head to glance back at the rest of it, pulling the fabric of his tie taut against Hancock's grip.]
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Ah, well. He was going to try his luck with 'Down' and see if he could get Nick onto his back by voice alone-- but this works, too. The curious inclination Nick takes to turn and twist, is something the Ghoul can use to knock him down. It only takes a few short seconds-- the fabric of the tie going from strict to slack crumples, Hancock's palm flat on Nick's chest and then the blue-black comforter sweeping up behind Nick's back. ]
Comfy, right? Won't lie, may'a jumped on it once or twice. Didn't want it falling into the lobby at a real... inconvenient moment
[ Conversational, like Nick had been, despite Hancock's knees framing the Synth's hips as he looms above. The hand still grasping Nick's tie is also pinning him down, Hancock's weight resting firmly against the center of his partner's chest. His free hand moves to cup Nick's cheek and-- on a greedy whim, the Ghoul's thumb slides along his bottom lip, pressing smoothly across the synthetic flesh. ]
Damn [ The growl is pure, simmering appreciation. ]
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Hancock, unexpectedly, gives Nick a redux of that thumb against his lips. The moment's different, so is the meaning, but Nick's heart (or reasonable facsimile thereof) kicks a bit as he does it. The weight and texture of his finger soaks up a small but persistant amount of his bandwidth, but not nearly so much as the look on the ghoul's face as he assesses him.
Felt under-dressed before and...well, frankly, he still feels under-dressed. The look Hancock's got leveled on his face is one Nick's only seen on his face and the longer it persists the more it makes him squirm. It's flattering but
undeserved he doesn't need to be flattered.]Glad it passed the test. [Unbidden, his hands shift to Hancock's clothed knees and move idly up his thighs. It's not a gesture with intent so much as just feeling to confirm this isn't a dream.]
Also glad that I'm more comfortable to sit on. Didn't expect that one.
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You need a better hat [ He teases, cutting into his Kin Pin persona with another shot of sugar, sweetness the composition as he momentarily leans over Nick, to rescue his hat were it landed on the bed. He spends a moment scooping the thing up and placing it neatly onto the modern shelving/headboard combo. He even dusts it off unnecessarily before sliding back into place. ]
Hey, isn't it your socks I'm supposed to knock off? [ The comment about how comfortable Nick is to sit on falls in perfect time with Hancock readjusting his position, creating an irresistible opportunity for him to up the ante. He hadn't been %100 on Nick's lap at first, some of the weight shared on his own knees on the mattress. But since Hancock is sitting back anyway, he makes a point of seating himself, saddle-tight, entirely in Nick's lap.
To drive the point of just how comfortable Hancock finds the position, the Ghoul rolls his shoulders into a lavish stretch, twins one arm above his head and then the other. Comfortable is not heavy enough a word for what he is. ]
Don't you worry about me, I like it just fine up here.
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[How someone can look haughty and commanding while dusting off and rescuing his hat, he has no idea, but Nick digs it. Hancock, all lithe and rasping, shifts his weight and rocks back, making himself comfortable. His thighs flank and press into Nick's midsection the rest of him settles against the flat of Nick's pelvis like he's a worn old chair.
Nick is more than happy to have Hancock draped over him, but this particular feature (or lack thereof) isn't something they've discussed. Not in any way more serious than traded jabs during conversation. The weight of the ghoul lights up part of Nick's brain all the same, regardless of his lacking features. He fogs Nick's thoughts up, but that stream of data comes with a flash of anxiety, like a warning notification. Nick's temperature ticks up again and an apologetic grimace dances across his face.]
Glad to hear it...but you--uh--might not find it all that engaging?
[Hell, maybe they should have set up a safe word. Suddenly, Nick feels like he's going to overheat.]
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Gettin' a little ahead of yourself there, ain'tcha? I'm right where I wanna be; no more to it than that. [ he measures a certain tenderness into his words-- it's a small issue to sweat, so far as Hancock is concerned, because Nick had already done pretty damn will with only his current hardware installed. ]
S'alright, alright? Didn't I already say, 'Interest, but no Assumptions'?
[ He takes Nick by each wrist, guiding the Synth's hands under his coat and up his ribs. ]
'Sides, you sayin you ain't enjoying this? My ego ain't fragile, but damn...
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Certainly not saying that.
[Nick is enjoying everything about this, as evidenced by his struggling fans. They've kicked on high and even with it, he just gets warmer and warmer. His thoughts are a fuzzy misasma with Hancock at the center. He has no hesitation in following the path Hancock's set him on. Nick's hands smooth over his shirt, carefully mapping the skin beneath through the fabric, traveling along his sides and up his back just for the hell of it. It's another layer of sensory data--the texture of the shirt, the warmth and coolness, the hand on his wrist.
The lighting in here is far more diffused and bright than the wasteland usually offers. It's a smooth, dull white with an electric blue edge, Nick's never been anywhere with lighting like this. It makes Hancock's eyes look all the blacker, but reflects in cool grey and stripes of occasional blue. His coat looks damn near black in here, and all the familiar shades of skin have a dreamy almost purplish quality.
Nick's not a painter, but times like this make him want to give it a go.]
I could stare up at you all night. If that's the plan, you won't hear me groaning about it.
[Though hot under the collar might be an understatement. Nick ignores it and, since neither of them have ever owned a laptop, neither of them seem to realize what happens when you press computer fans against bedding for a while.]
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The contrasting temperatures of Nick's hands over his shirt pull a long tattered sigh from the Ghoul's chest, lifting and sinking his ribs beneath the exploratory touch. His eyes shut and his head tips back a small fraction as he soaks in the pure tactile bliss.]
Well... guess I'm hopin' you do a little more than stare [ it takes some shifting of his weight for Hancock to be able to set his hands on his own buttons beneath the ruffles of his shirt. Perhaps in spite of his own eagerness, the Ghoul slows his pace and plucks open the buttons one by one. Sliver after sliver of skin greets the open air, until Hancock can peer down and watch exactly what Nick's hands look like, coasting along his torso. It looks good-- enough to cost him a few seconds before the next smart-ass thing tumbles out of his smirking mouth.]
Not that I could blame ya if that's all ya manage. I am pretty damn breathtaking, n'all
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His movements crawl as Hancock undoes the front of it but, even so, he finishes first. It's no chore, though, reaching up through that parting fabric to draw fingertips over his stomach. Watching Hancock move above him, watching the small shifts as muscles in his core, his side, neck and chest move, is a sight that Nick takes in greedily.
It's a dirty trick, sitting on him as Hancock has. He can't quite sit up and he's not close enough to kiss anything. It makes him all the more aware of what his hands are doing--and what one of them is feeling.]
You really are.
[That was meant to be sass, a cheeky bit of agreement. It came out as a soft statement couched in the gravel of Nick's voice, so sincere that the neutral expression Nick usually wears is revealed for the fond look that it actually is.]
Too far away for a slow dance, though.
*/takes a loooooooooooooooooooong hit of Chem Pie
Tryin' make me blush? Not sure that's-- [ his voice catches slightly as Nick's hand wonders low, dipping dangerously below his navel.] --on the table, with my Ghoulish [ said like 'Girlish'] complexation.
[ He's caught between Too Many Desires again; wanting to melt onto Nick and kiss him until he can't breathe, wanting to shift his position and roll the back of his thighs against Nick's lap to eagerly prop open a thigh under the threat of those wandering fingers, and--
Well, he can do the thing that will take the least amount of time, first.]
Ya want me closer, huh? Alright...
[ He's moving again, shifting his weight until it's spread evenly across his own knees and Nick's lap. The way it lends him the freedom of motion to lift and drop his hips is largely frivolous-- but maybe it doesn't feel that way, to someone with at least a couple memories that should fall in line.
There's a notable amount of heat coming off of Hancock's bare chest as he drapes himself over his partner once more. His breath is too hot, too ragged all of the sudden against the Synth's ear; his hips rock through a subtle, but shamelessly lewd pantomime. Missing hardware? No worries-- Hancock will burn them both on the mere idea of what could be.
His loaded groan trails through the moments, so distorted it's almost not recognizable as the Synth's name. ]
LMAO
Nick's never been so hot and bothered as he is right now--he's barely running any data but his processors are chugging. He feels like he ought to be panting, sucking down air like he's running a marathon, with Hancock writhing and making the show that he's making. Nick's hands settle at his hips, just to feel the flexion of his pantomime. He turns his head to get a look at Hancock's face but, abruptly, his left eye flashes a warning and then cuts out entirely.
What? That only happens when he's--]
Ah, shit.
[Nick quickly tilts his head away from Hancock's mouth and grips his hips. It's quick, hurried, and direct the way he takes hold and flips them on this impossibly comfortable, cushy bed. Reversing their positions drops the ghoul into the spot Nick had just occupied and it's a stunning contrast to the room around them. The blankets are hot like they'd just moved the iron away and Nick's fans, unblocked, are hitching and struggling under his coat.]
Just a second, sweetheart--
[Nick is knelt on the bed just between Hancock's legs and he reels back to hurriedly strip off his coat. The change in temperature when he does is severe and Nick sighs as his core temperature stops rising. His left eye is still throwing an error, but it'll come back online in a moment. Crisis averted, Nick tosses his coat on the bed and takes a deep breath.]
So hot you got me ready to catch fire. What a show.
I need something to anchor my soul to the mortal plane xD
He was about to say-- something more intelligible than nothing, but the next thing Nick says finally successfully knocks the language right out of the Ghoul, for at least a few seconds. It's an undeniable record scratch moment that leaves Hancock with his mouth hung open for a split second, staring up at those electric-yellow eyes like some liquid bliss just hit his bloodstream. 'Sweetheart'... he likes that off Nick's lips just as much as 'Johnny'.]
Y'alright? [ He finally realizes the heat clinging to the sheets is actually not coming from his own body and-- yeah, iron-hot is right. It doesn't hurt but it makes him realize he should, maybe, at least strip Nick off a bit before playing that particular tune. ] There I go, gettin' over-zealous again...
[ Ah, but, while he's here... Hancock sinks into the insanely plush mattress, lounging lavishly while sipping on the sight of Nick looming over him. Hot, disheveled, de-coated. Now it's Hancock's turn to take his time reaching for and fixing his own hand, just right, as though he doesn't have much better things to be doing with his hands. ]
Thought I might indulge ya [ Hancock come on it was very self gratifying ] Not that the views bad from where I'm sittin', either.
Nick just casually throwing out the heart clenching pet names.
[Nick's mind is clearing as he gradually cools down, but now that he's got Hancock spread out over the blankets, lounging like the big cat Nick always compares him to, he can pay proper tribute to the ghoul. Nick shifts so his other knee is next to Hancock's hip, one of his thighs straddled, and leans over, caging Hancock in without resting down on him.
His eye's still out, so he knows his head is hot enough to burn if he isn't careful, which means nuzzling in return is straight out. He might be able to get away with mapping him out with his mouth and that thought appeals just as well. Nick decides to just carry on paying quiet tribute, keep the game going until Hancock shifts things.]
Tell me if it's too hot. Don't want to go burnin' you.
[His warning is chased by his leaning in and brushing a soft kiss against the space right by Hancock's mouth, then his chin, and then the skin across Hancock's throat. He drags his lips, just barely grazing, and travels idly down to his adam's apple, then to the pit of his neck.
Once his gradual path is done, he shifts back up, puts his weight on the hands bracketing Hancock's head, and maps along his jaw, tracing more featherlight kisses from his pulse to the top of his shoulder. Nick savors this, romantic that he is. He may not be able to sell something lewd as well as Hancock can, he's too straightlaced, but he can do this and do it well.
Each of Nick's passes stop when he hits fabric, he's in no rush and Hancock wanted the full evening. It's more than enough to worship what peeks out of his open shirt, and worship Nick does. Hancock's still the boss here, the mantle is his so long as he wants it, and Nick being above him doesn't necessarily change a thing...except, perhaps, perspective.
The new fall of shadows and light across the ghoul is just as charming as the last, so Nick has no complaints.]
He doesn't know how hot he is xD
Far as he knows there's only one way to make his face go red red.And then Nick's mouth is just on the shy side of too-hot, like a dull knife's edge that had been under a tongue of fire. It startles and confuses Hancock's nerves in a damn delicious way; intense pleasure overcutting the softest suggestion (or idea) of pain. ]
Yeah, this ain't the sound'a me complainin'. [ At least his skin is too strong to go red from the heat-- a testament to how sturdy built the Ghoul is, how much punishment he can take without the barest hint of effort. In this case, it's only fair Hancock feel the results of the overheating he caused his reckless-damn-self. ]
Shit, is the light in one'a your eyes out? Is that cuz'a me? [ He would really and truly be more concerned if Nick wasn't-- well, still so attentively worshipping him. He trusts the Synth to be able to handle himself, but it's also a tick he hasn't noticed before, even with a keen eye for details. ]
hancock was so hot nick went temporarily blind
Tends to detatch partially if I overheat. 'S a decent warning system.
[Nick's not terribly bothered by it, not in the safety and seclusion of the penthouse, not with Hancock here with him. This is fairly obvious given how lazily he travels along Hancock's body.]
When it cools off it'll come back.
[Nick slows his pace once he moves to Hancock's chest, kissing with less chastity, still straddling the line of too hot, regardless of how hard his fans work.]
Might take a minute, this time, seeing how I don't plan on stepping away anytime soon.
[He glances up, along Hancock's body, and tests a biting kiss as he watches the ghoul's face.]
Not unless you tell me to.
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His hands reel through the air and grab at nothing, just the emptiness at either side of Nick's head. The Ghoul aches to grab and cling and pull-- but he's more cautious of actually overheating the Synth than burning his own hands. Obviously the call had been close-- Hancock can't recall ever seeing the light go off behind one of Nick's eyes. ]
Guess I better dig it while I can-- not selfish enough to overheat ya just cuz I like when your mouth gets so damn hot
[ His fingers bite restlessly into the comforter at either side of his own head, because he has to hold onto something; his spine bends to appreciatively press upwards while Nick's mouth drifts lower down his chest. He likes holding the Synth's gaze, watching him watching, but he can't keep steady enough beneath that experimental press of teeth. ]
Don't you dare [ Once again between this and that Hancock finds himself balanced perfectly on the razor's edge between a growling command and a demanding plead. He's mildly surprised to hear his own voice compose quite like that-- a pretty rare occasion, not quite as common as a blue moon. ]
Not gunna happen [ Feels like a better take on the tone of his answer, the growling amendment coming off the hint of a sheepish smirk. ]
Not Nick doing quick calculations about how he can get this hot and not reball his systems.
things to speak to his heavily modded twin about xD
DiMA: Nick do you know how much dust is in here??? You gotta dust this.
OMFG DED xDDDDD
Nick "I am not suave" he says while being the suavest mf.
Honestly not even fair dude is unreal
Some Gomez and Morticia shit right here.
Anything Adams' approved is usually good stuff~
Tru that.
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Nick is going to need to be knocked down a peg after this, he's gonna get smug. (justifiably smug))
Justifiably indeed~
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Nick's very scattered right now, as is to be expected when you give a guy the nicest house ever.
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Nick: "I wonder if I'm a masochist?" 5min later:
Hancock: please everyone likes getting choked practically vanilla :P
choking is wasteland 2nd base
For realz. Also tagging this first because it takes longer for my brain to process ^^;;
Lmao it's all good, tag whichever is easiest that's fine. (Can you tell I'm listening to Hozier.)
My brain slows down on steamy stuff it's not helpful xD;;
Given how much of it we write, I feel compelled to apologize.
YA GOOD BB Nick can't do much TBH xDDD just S U F F E R ~
alsdkfj
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I don't have icons for this. I should make more.
I don't think they make the correct facial expressions in game xD
I'm sure there's a mod for that. There's a mod for everything. Gonna make the cutscenes awkward tho
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Quick tag here as I write action elsewhere.
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NGL nice to have these two tones of interaction to bounce between
Right? Though there are some really disconcerting parallels here at the moment.
XD It's accidental foreshadowing?
Does it count as foreshadowing if we finish the other one first? LMAO.
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Do we call it for interrogation?