⏪ IC CONTACT

[teaserving]

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[teaserving]

Yeah, a little. Did that even do anything for you?

[chroma-wise or. whatever.]

I don't think grabbing your own does anything either.

[grilletto]

[ He looked at his hand that was still just hovering in the air, disappointed that he hadn't really checked his Chroma count before going for that over the shirt tiddy touch. ]

Well, like I said, it was still warm so it must have done something.

[ Even as he thought it, there was still another option, wasn't there? It's not like it would be difficult. There was a quick look at his wristband, just a rather dull glance as he noted the amount in his account. ]

Maybe if I just...

[ Aaaaand there it is, Mista plunging his hand straight into Abbacchio's shirt for skin to skin contact. ]

[teaserving]

...What the fuck.

[teaserving]

[teaserving]

[teaserving]

Mista, what the fuck.

[teaserving]

[After a handful of seconds of Abbacchio building up his rage meter, he sneers at Mista, baring his teeth before ripping his hand out from his shirt.]

I didn't fucking invite you to cop a feel twice, dipshit.

[Yeah, that hug? Now very quickly becoming Abbacchio literally lifting Mista up and slamming him back into the floor.]

Keep your fucking hands to yourself.

[grilletto]

[ Oh fuck, oh fucking hell, what the fuck...!! Mista didn't even really have time to think about what was happening before he found himself slammed against the floor.

A cough as he caught his breath, letting out a pained groan as he just laid right where he'd landed. ]

What the fuck, man? I just wanted...to fucking compare....

[ GOD WHERE DID HE GO WRONG?! ]

[teaserving]

You're a fucking idiot, Mista.

Get your shit together and keep your fucking hands to yourself.

[grilletto]

Yeah, well...

[ He just rolled over onto his side, taking in a deep breath as he pushed himself back up. ]

...I'm just gonna go, thanks for the help. It was nice until I fucked it up.