[He borders the line between mortally offended and angry when JoJo lords his apparently clearer view of the previous night over him. The aftertaste of alcohol is heavy in his mouth and he blames that on his slow recollection. It's coming in waves and flashes-in rough touches and indecipherable murmurs.
His reaction time is, in his humble opinion, also delayed by the dried taste of tequila that still coats his lips. This guy always has an abundance of energy and it's his own damn fault for forgetting that.
But the unfinished business forces his brain into overdrive. Being the only one on this bed without the full story is wearing his already thin patience and he doesn't get how some idiot like this, who probably never had a drink before last night, somehow managed to retain the memory.]
You're heavy. Get off.
[Is the automatic reply that comes out of his mouth. He's trying to fill the silence, to catch up, to get a clue from the strewn pillows and broken radio and-
The thin line of sunlight coming through the curtains hits his eyes and he turns away from that scene with a grunt. He tugs at the restrained hand above him, knowing damn well this guy isn't going to let him loose anytime soon, and decides on an alternative course. He drops his voice into a familiar act-the smooth talking casanova that can easily pull tourists into his arms and steal kisses in dark alleyways. ]
But since you're interested in unfinished business suddenly-
[He didn't get the chance to properly shock his ass a second time and the unrestrained hand presses against his side, gently trailing up to his rib cage and-
If JoJo hasn't caught onto his game, he'll feel another strong jolt against his skin.]
no subject
His reaction time is, in his humble opinion, also delayed by the dried taste of tequila that still coats his lips. This guy always has an abundance of energy and it's his own damn fault for forgetting that.
But the unfinished business forces his brain into overdrive. Being the only one on this bed without the full story is wearing his already thin patience and he doesn't get how some idiot like this, who probably never had a drink before last night, somehow managed to retain the memory.]
You're heavy. Get off.
[Is the automatic reply that comes out of his mouth. He's trying to fill the silence, to catch up, to get a clue from the strewn pillows and broken radio and-
The thin line of sunlight coming through the curtains hits his eyes and he turns away from that scene with a grunt. He tugs at the restrained hand above him, knowing damn well this guy isn't going to let him loose anytime soon, and decides on an alternative course. He drops his voice into a familiar act-the smooth talking casanova that can easily pull tourists into his arms and steal kisses in dark alleyways. ]
But since you're interested in unfinished business suddenly-
[He didn't get the chance to properly shock his ass a second time and the unrestrained hand presses against his side, gently trailing up to his rib cage and-
If JoJo hasn't caught onto his game, he'll feel another strong jolt against his skin.]