( to be stepped on, ah, a dream. unfortunately, komaeda doesn't know that as he feels something flat against his chest pushing at him. he may be tall as hell, but he should be able to lean forward and collar the ultimate if he works hard enough. though, isn't touching against the rules? to be honest, what are the rules to the game? well, it's what anyone would expect — it goes for anything in the room, so he doesn't understand why someone would be stopping him. )
Oh! ( this voice he knows particularly well, very well in fact that komaeda reaches out with his mechanical hand to touch what's pressed against him. his fingers press against the tip, slow and curious, and then slide against the texture of the shoe's toebox as it glides along the black surface. his fingers turn alone the curve, index and middle brushing along the width of the purple heel while sizing up the length of the entire shoe. he still hasn't figured out what it is just yet, but those two fingers are adventurous as they slowly draw up, fumbling over the entrance lining until cold steel touches warm skin, and it's a shame komaeda's unable to register that.
his hand slithers up to his calf, stopping as komaeda lifts his pulls the hand that's holding the collar back so that ouma can.. feel safe? probably not as safe with a hand on his leg, but knowing that it's the ultimate lucky student that's holding him down, he has no reason to be worried. while he doesn't care about much around him, he does care — well, if you call this caring — about the ultimate that's before him, and with slight concern in his voice. )
What's wrong, Ouma-kun? You can have a turn after.
( while he's not complaining about a turn, he says this just in case. )
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Oh! ( this voice he knows particularly well, very well in fact that komaeda reaches out with his mechanical hand to touch what's pressed against him. his fingers press against the tip, slow and curious, and then slide against the texture of the shoe's toebox as it glides along the black surface. his fingers turn alone the curve, index and middle brushing along the width of the purple heel while sizing up the length of the entire shoe. he still hasn't figured out what it is just yet, but those two fingers are adventurous as they slowly draw up, fumbling over the entrance lining until cold steel touches warm skin, and it's a shame komaeda's unable to register that.
his hand slithers up to his calf, stopping as komaeda lifts his pulls the hand that's holding the collar back so that ouma can.. feel safe? probably not as safe with a hand on his leg, but knowing that it's the ultimate lucky student that's holding him down, he has no reason to be worried. while he doesn't care about much around him, he does care — well, if you call this caring — about the ultimate that's before him, and with slight concern in his voice. )
What's wrong, Ouma-kun? You can have a turn after.
( while he's not complaining about a turn, he says this just in case. )