[For all their difference, the two men actually share that trait in common. Guzma's not big on being touched by people, even those he does know. Of course he and his boy sometimes would knock each other around, and engage in a few highfives, fistbumps, and even the occasional "gangster hug", but that was really it. This sort of contact is foreign, unwanted, and it makes Guzma's skin crawl. He grinds his teeth together, hissing out softly.]
Bro, you make that sound tempting.
[That's...not even banter anymore. This is sick, he wants to die. Would death be swift if he really leapt into that frothing muck? Would he be allowed the luxury? No, his luck is never that good.
There's not much to grab at his shoulder other than skin. With his hoodie discarded, all Guzma has is his faded, white tanktop under. His kneejerk reaction is to swat the hand away - fucker do not - but instead he grips Ichi's hand in his, albeit it may, uh...hurt a little (a lot). Guzma's grip is crushing, and his own smile is manic, edged with his growing fury.
Leg up, shithead. Guzma caught the glimpse, and with a grunt, he pivots on his heel and grabs Ichimatsu's waist, lifting him up in time to (hopefully) kick away the opposing monster before a feigned drop, catching the smaller male in a crouch with one hand holding up his arm and the other behind his head.]
no subject
Bro, you make that sound tempting.
[That's...not even banter anymore. This is sick, he wants to die. Would death be swift if he really leapt into that frothing muck? Would he be allowed the luxury? No, his luck is never that good.
There's not much to grab at his shoulder other than skin. With his hoodie discarded, all Guzma has is his faded, white tanktop under. His kneejerk reaction is to swat the hand away - fucker do not - but instead he grips Ichi's hand in his, albeit it may, uh...hurt a little (a lot). Guzma's grip is crushing, and his own smile is manic, edged with his growing fury.
Leg up, shithead. Guzma caught the glimpse, and with a grunt, he pivots on his heel and grabs Ichimatsu's waist, lifting him up in time to (hopefully) kick away the opposing monster before a feigned drop, catching the smaller male in a crouch with one hand holding up his arm and the other behind his head.]
If I vomit, it'll be on your face.