Hakuba was getting close, extremely close. Hattori swallowed, hard, licking his lips out of nervousness as Hakuba reached out and fixed his collar. This was intimate, almost as intimate as the hand holding and Hattori was finding it rather difficult to remember why he was protesting so much.
“I do.” It was barely a whisper. “I do care wha’ happen ta ya.” He felt the blush creep back onto his cheek as he admitted the words and he coughed, clearing his throat. What was he doing? Why was he saying these things? Was it because of Hakuba’s actions.
Hakuba was starting to speak French. Hattori knew basic french, he wasn’t fluent in it, a few things here and there, the basic phrases to get by. Then Hakuba was kissing his cheeks and Hattori’s cheeks turned a dark crimson.
“Tha’ wasn’t exactly a hello kiss back there.” Hattori muttered.
“C’est bien cela? Pardonnez-moi, Hattori,” Hakuba feigned a dramatic sigh, lifting a hand to the side of his face, glancing off down the alley to check for anyone passing by. Fortunately, they were alone. “Peut-être que vous voulez que je vous montre un vrai baiser?”
It was almost as if the blonde had ignored everything that the Osakan had attempted to say. Yes, he’d completely missed the point. He pulled back then, hands moving to Heiji’s shoulders to look his face over, noting the crimson with a sense of supreme satisfaction. It made little difference to him whether Heiji understood him or not; in fact, that was part of the thrill.
“So what do you say, Heeeeiji~? Would you like me to?”