What? Why 'm I the one that's mad? Maybe you're mad an' you need to forgive me
[He's pretty sure that makes no sense, positive, really, but in his defense he's too busy thinking This proves it. If those bastard Trees are real, they fucking hate me.
Because he can hear the laughter warming Lavi's taunt, feel that hum shiver down his spine before the trace and flicker of fingers against his side.
He tries to ignore that, too, and almost succeeds - but then warm breath teases along his neck and Lavi's face right there, and he can't help the way his body jerks as if to lean closer, hand fisting in the fabric of his partner's jacket, right between his shoulder blades.
You're gonna be the death of me, he thinks with a moment's clarity, even as his face jerks to the side, towards the source of his latest torment.
Noses bump, lips passing tantalizingly close but not quite touching before they brush past each other, before he - in an equally clear moment - purposefully lets his feet stumble, as if balance lost.
His grip tightens a little more in Lavi's jacket as he completes the move, drops his forehead to the curve of his partner's neck with a soft curse and a prayer to any god or overgrown shrubbery for a reprieve, before he does something completely and utterly reckless.]
Bastard! You're gonna make me fall. Imma take you with me though.
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[He's pretty sure that makes no sense, positive, really, but in his defense he's too busy thinking This proves it. If those bastard Trees are real, they fucking hate me.
Because he can hear the laughter warming Lavi's taunt, feel that hum shiver down his spine before the trace and flicker of fingers against his side.
He tries to ignore that, too, and almost succeeds - but then warm breath teases along his neck and Lavi's face right there, and he can't help the way his body jerks as if to lean closer, hand fisting in the fabric of his partner's jacket, right between his shoulder blades.
You're gonna be the death of me, he thinks with a moment's clarity, even as his face jerks to the side, towards the source of his latest torment.
Noses bump, lips passing tantalizingly close but not quite touching before they brush past each other, before he - in an equally clear moment - purposefully lets his feet stumble, as if balance lost.
His grip tightens a little more in Lavi's jacket as he completes the move, drops his forehead to the curve of his partner's neck with a soft curse and a prayer to any god or overgrown shrubbery for a reprieve, before he does something completely and utterly reckless.]
Bastard! You're gonna make me fall. Imma take you with me though.