throughbamboo | [ sheep ] continuations/overflow

Since when d'you need a breather?

[it's teasing, not serious. He takes a seat on the floor near him, though]

Gotta keep up appearances!

[ wakka wakka wakka. ]

[he hums a bit, but he shifts to stretch his leg out to nudge him]

I was gonna tease ya 'bout gettin' old.

Bah. Only as old as I feel.

N' how old are ya feelin'?

Who can really say?

S'a coy way ta say old, bro.

[ he's up in an instant, on his knees and getting in his face. ]

Who's bein' coy? I'm just sayin' it can't be quantified. Maybe I feel like a teenager. Maybe I feel like a forty-somethin'. Who gives a shit?

[well hi there. He snorts softly, lips twitching]

'M just sayin'. Ya usually give me the "who can say?" answer when yer bein' coy or cheeky.

Heh. Fer yer information, this whole shit today with Mr. Popular got me thinkin'.

[ lifts a hand, tapping at the side of his head. ]

What if I'd spun the bottle? If it'd landed on someone, I sure as shit woulda done it because I'm in it ta win it with these stupid-ass rituals. Except then, yanno, I thought, what the fuck. I'll kiss a fuckin' stranger with zero shame, but I got some kinda hang-up when it comes to my bro? The hell is that? S'bullshit is what it is.

So then I thought, well fuck. What's the difference? Why's my brain suddenly gotta shriek like a goddamn harpy when it means something, but give zero shits when it's bottle nonsense?

An' then I realized.

Just gotta fool it.

[ leans forward, slapping his hands down on his shoulders, and presses a kiss against his lips. ]

[he's clearly not expecting it so enjoy the startled little noise he makes. Suddenly bro kiss??

His shoulders are tense, but he still lifts his hands like he's going to touch him - and then clenches his fists and drops them again]