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[As he catches up with her, he laughs again, and this time it sounds like it's full of something that isn't melancholy.]

Besides, besiiiides! You know that bein' a woman isn't really about all that nonsense- It's not about havin' a head or a pair of tits, it's about feelin' like one.

[He manages to take hold of her shoulder, gently, albeit.]

You said you feel like one when we're together! So~! That's what ya are.

[ she lets him take her shoulder, helmet turning a little to look at him. she does feel like one around him and not like the monster everyone thought she was back home; she didn't think it was possible for another human to make her feel this way.

being able to feel this way, being able to be close to him like this, is addicting. ]

Thank you.

[He has no idea what he's done- Still, even though this night means so much to him, he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand that this is the kind of talk that'll make a woman fall in love with you, and so he continues to prattle on.]

What for?

For treatin' you like you're special? Well I've got news for ya!

[He snickers, pressing his nose against her helmet.]

You're one of a kind.

Edited 2015-08-18 22:59 (UTC)

[Sakamoto gives Celty a moment to process this, and then pulls away from her slowly.]

Now! Let's dance.

[ he does treat her like she's special, like she's worth something, and it's a nice feeling. it's nice to be wanted and cherished. she takes a moment to imagine what it'd feel like if she wasn't wearing her helmet, if she had a head attached to her neck and what it'd feel like to have his nose pressed against her hair.

he always seems to know just what to say.

but he pulls away before she can respond and she's assaulted by flashing lights and loud music once they step in. she always entered from the back before and it's strange to come here just to dance instead of working. she ends up turning to sakamoto, unsure of where to go first. ]

[Sakamoto looks over at her too; the blinding lights dimmed by his dark lenses. As they flicker on and off, she appears and disappears, and he's distracted for a moment.

When he finally comes to, he realizes how odd and uncomfortable it must've been to have him stare at her so oddly, and so he tries to cover with a stupid line:]

Is this the kind of music kids are listening to nowadays? Geez! I feel old.

[ she feels old too. then again, she's felt old for a long, long time.

she turns on the text to voice app on her device, makes the volume loud enough for him to hear over the music. ]

Maybe if we familiarize ourselves with it, we'll feel young again.

[ she reaches for his hand again, the material of her glove fading away into smoke before she laces their fingers together, skin against skin. she turns towards the mass of bodies on the dance floor, making her way towards the middle. ]

Who cares about feelin' young?

[Youth.

Something that he should have enjoyed, perhaps, but something that he barely remembers. Or, perhaps, things he remembers and tries to forget. The stench of rotting flesh isn't an odor that leaves him, no, it returns in the evenings sometimes before he's had another drink.

And yet the feeling of her bare skin against his own is enough to make him hot at the collar, and so he does a bold thing:]

I'd rather feel you.

[He pulls Celty close to himself, wrapping an arm around her waist. Sakamoto doesn't care whether they're the center of attention or not, as the people around them aren of little importance to him at the moment.]

[ she feels the same tightness in her chest again, another stolen breath as she's pressed against him. her hands end up on his shoulders for balance and she can't help but notice how warm he is already.

but there's other things she can feel too: the deep base of the music pulsing through them, his breath on her helmet, the strength of his arm around her waist, the solidity of his chest. she's reminded of the night he stayed over at her apartment, how he held her against him and the way it felt then. it's a heady feeling, all wound up with anticipation and nowhere for it to go.

she ends up pressing a little more against him during the swell of music, not wanting to lose him in the crowd. ]

[It's this that fucks him up, the fact that every time he does something stupid she doesn't resist him or push him aside, so he sways and bounces to the rhythm (or what he thinks is the rhythm), just pulling her even closer than before.

She has a heartbeat, he notices, which is strange because it seems as though she's made from shadows. What's even more bizarre, however, is how he feels the pace of that infernal muscle quicken when he rocks against her, losing focus for a second.]

You've never done this before?

Edited 2015-08-19 00:09 (UTC)

[ she had pressed her helmet against his shoulder when he first rocked his body against her, sending a shiver down her spine. her helmet moves left to right in response to his question: she's never done anything like this before and all the sensations she's feeling are so new.

she looks back up at him again, watches the lights reflecting off his sunglasses and tries the same thing, a small roll of her hips against his. ]

[He desperately attempts to stifle the noise that almost leaves his throat, smiling as if to hide the whirlwind of emotions astir inside of him.]

You're a natural.

[All of this feels natural, which is the weirdest part of it all. There's no need to dim his thoughts with liquor, and when he looks at her she's not rolling her eyes or wrinkling her nose in disgust.

So this is what it feels like to really dance with someone- Beautiful.]

[ despite his comment she doesn't do it again immediately, helmet tipped downwards in embarrassment. she doesn't think she's that much of a natural, maybe he's just being nice, but it's a little gratifying to hear him say it anyway.

she settles her arms around his shoulders, lets her hands join at the base of his neck. it feels a little too good to feel his arms around her like this, almost overwhelming, but she doesn't want to pull away. instead, the next time he rocks against her, she meets him. ]

[Her fingers slip beneath his scarf, brushing over scarred flesh, a foolish mistake made long ago. But the past is not important to him, instead he moves forward, and in fact he almost lunges forward, when Celty's hips meet his. Much to his chagrin, the noise he fails to keep down this time is filthy, and he buries his head in her shoulder, still moving to the beat.]

I'm not lyin', y'know.

[How does he say it?

"This just feels right."]

[ his voice drags another shiver from her, brings back the same ache she feels whenever she's close to him like this. one of her hands reaches up to weave fingers in his hair, gently combing through the curls near his nape. ]

About what?

[ she can still feel his warmth through her bodysuit, heating up her skin gradually. she ends up pulling down the zipper of her suit to give her more room to breathe and subsequently expose a hint of cleavage. ]

[He was going to say something profound, something wonderful, but the hint of skin that's exposed leaves him speechless. When she pulls her zipper down, Sakamoto feels the words die in his throat.

Temptation is a cruel mistress, and while it would usually ruin the night, his thoughts aren't cloudy with the buzz of alcohol. Sakamoto steps back without warning, taking one of her hands and twirling her around so that her back is facing him. That's a dance move, isn't it?

And yet his other hand still snakes around her waist. He can feel the bass pumping too, so this time he rolls his body against her back, adjusting his pace to the rhythm.]

That you're good.

[His throat feels so dry.]

Ahaha! That you're, uh, a good dancer. 'Least, I think so!

Edited 2015-08-19 01:27 (UTC)

[ oh.

she wasn't expecting to be twirled and it shows when she grips his hand, the back of her helmet resting against his shoulder. it's starting to get a little more difficult to feel embarrassed with the way he's pressed against her -- he's enjoying himself and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't either. that's really all that matters, isn't it? as long as they're both having fun, nothing else really matters in the end.

so she moves with him, feeling her heart speed up again and a heady sensation fogging up her senses. ]

Thank you. But I think you're better.

[Sakamoto closes his eyes and tilts his head back, thrusting harder without thinking, and feeling awfully guilty. Awful. Guilty.

And obsessed. Obsessed with how this feels, half-wondering if he's fantasizing and still asleep in bed. He should be working towards his goal, working towards something...

And he's going to try, but for now, he's going to enjoy a thing he thought he'd never have.]

And I think-

[He leans close to her, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. In a whisper:]

You don't know what yer talkin' about.

[ this time, she's the one who moans.

it's not unlike the sound he made earlier, low and breathy. the music is loud enough to cover it, but he can hear it, echoing from her mind to his. thankfully it's short, and instinctual enough that she doesn't fully realize she did it at first, tilting her helmet to the side to give him more room. ]

[Sakamoto's eyes widen, as if he's caught off-guard by the noise. You would think he realized that it was something important, but instead:]

Was that a flat tire?

[ oh.

oh no. ]

[ oh no.

did he actually hear her? did she say something weird? she did, didn't she. she totally did and now he said it sounded like a flat tire and this is really embarrassing. ]

[ she pulls away slowly, carefully. ]

I'm sorry, I need to step outside for a moment.

[ and without waiting for a response, she turns to leave. ]

[Sakamoto can feel the warmth leave him, and he stands dumbstruck in the middle of the crowd. Soon he falls prey to the bumping and grinding of the crowd, being pushed every which way until he's finally at the edge of the dance floor. He squints his eyes, the thumping of the music finally resulting in some kind of headache. She's not the type of girl who would leave him like this, but...

This is how it usually goes, isn't it?

The bar seems a little brighter, and although he barely registers the face of the bartender, a drink sounds real good right now.]

[ she's exhausted by the time she gets outside, leaning against the wall of the club and taking a moment to get her bearings. she probably shouldn't have ran out like that, what if she made him upset? but she was too embarrassed right then and even now she wants to run home, pretend the whole thing didn't happen.

but if she thinks about it, she doesn't want that. she liked what was happening in there, the closeness and the intimacy. she liked it and a part of her wished it would never end.

maybe she just can't wait anymore. ]

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