MISTLETOE MEME REDUX

[siberia]

the mistletoe meme

you know what to do. whether it's magic compulsion (feat. magical attraction or not), that you're trapped until you kiss, or just tradition and social pressure, you've been caught under the mistletoe and that means you have to kiss.

 

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[decryptic]

[ "That's not it," she says, and it doesn't sound like an empty denial. Admitting that it's something more than just reflexive shyness holding her back. She would've been better off saying nothing at all. She always drops these tiny, bothersome pieces for him to obsess over like sand in a boot, but he knows better than to probe; she'll only withdraw, guarding her thoughts all the more closely.

It's okay. She's entitled to her secrets. It doesn't change his affection for her. Besides, that clumsy self-expression is part of her charm.

There's something too in that flinch of hers, but he doesn't withdraw his hand. He's more interested in seeing how she slowly gives in, fighting whatever battle is going on in her mind. And he can't say why, but it's just nice to be able to touch her face.

Her hand on his shoulder is delicate, and distracting. His smile eases away, only a hint remaining. It's now or never. He shifts a little closer to her. Out of necessity, of course, as he isn't really in the position to be bending over to reach her. He tips up onto his toes, and his hand slides to the back of her neck to press her closer -- a suggestion that she bend to help him out here. Her face is so close. He begins to lean in... but pauses short of the last few inches between them. A last chance for her to change her mind... and a last test of curiosity, to see if she'll meet him halfway. ]

that icon.... i'll kill you

[undeserved]

[ All these little tests are just hurdles lined up for her to trip into. He's the one who wanted to do this. Is he teasing her, or does he already know more than he should? Maybe he wants to see how far he can push her - although he's never done it like this. None of it is malicious; she knows it isn't. Her job would be easier if he was cruel. But he's warm and bright like the sun, finding her no matter what shade she tries to hide herself in. Luring her out, even though she knows the sun will set soon and leave her cold again. 9S must already suspect she's hiding things; 2B's lived this too many times to believe otherwise. Yet here they are, barely inches apart, breathing each other's air.

She leans down at his urging, hesitant, ostensibly shy - or maybe actually shy; she doesn't know where one set of anxieties ends and the other begins. He's waiting for her to take the last step. Her fingertips curl into the fabric of his coat and the small frame of his shoulders. She shuts her eyes behind the goggles.

But she can't do it. Even if she wants to - no, especially because she wants to. She doesn't have the right to even stand this close to him when it's all a lie that will come crashing down on him later. And yet she can't back away, either. Always trapped in this orbit, simultaneously too close and too far. She leans in enough for her nose to brush his; then she tilts her head away again, barely, retreating a heartbeat away. ]

sorry for the lateness!! i died when you killed me

[decryptic]

[ He lets out a small, amused breath. Talk about leaving him on the edge of his seat. His senses feel heightened like he's in the middle of a pitched battle, but neither of them are moving now and there's hardly any noise; it's only his hand on her neck, her hand in his coat, the warmth between them settling together. His eyes have drifted shut by now. As stilted as this whole endeavor has been, he still manages to be oddly comforted by her closeness. He doesn't mind standing here, being with her.

So even if her nerves are getting the better of her, he lets this moment linger. He harbors no illusion that they'll ever be this close again, as close as they could possibly be. If only he could rest against her. If only he could hold her with both hands. But that's a barrier he dare not breach. This is only a passing moment, and their relationship can't be of that nature.

So it's bittersweet when he finally does move to kiss her, lagging, knowing that afterward they'll have to draw apart. He's conscious of having to tilt his head so that their noses don't bump again, and close as they are, it's a soft movement. Here, more questions arise (is he supposed to do something with his mouth? what's the protocol on duration?) but he settles on studying 2B's reaction as his lips touch simply against hers. ]

that was my christmas present to you. murder

[undeserved]

[ knowing it's coming doesn't really do much to prepare her for it. This time, at least, she doesn't jump at the contact. She just feels something crumbling inside of her. She shouldn't have done this. This is a line she can't uncross. He might think of this as a passing moment - she knows it's going to stick inside her for months, years, forever, as long as she remains his Executioner. And as long as she remains his Executioner, she can't be anything else.

So she wonders why she wants to, not for the first time. It doesn't make sense for unit 2E's systems to be struck silent by the softness of another's lips or the heat of his breath. If emotions are forbidden, she shouldn't be feeling this longing, this painful flash of happiness, or the prick of tears threatening to spill from behind her eyes. She's defective. She's as useless to YoRHa for these unnecessary feelings as she is to 9S for her loyalty to them. But she made a promise to continue her useless existence -- for his sake. And, in the end, she cares more about what he wants than anything else in this damned world.

Even if he doesn't know or remember.

The grip on his shoulder tightens, almost painfully. He might be surprised when she presses back against him. It's very hesitant, and a little clumsy, but 2B kisses him back. She shouldn't, but she can't stop herself; amidst the pain and regret, her mind is flooded with memories of him and his smile, his simple presence at her side, and with a feeling she doesn't dare assign a name to. ]

[decryptic]

[ After all her hesitation, he isn't prepared for her to actually lean into the kiss. The pressure is soft like her lips are soft, and fascinatingly gentle from someone who goes to such pains to act hard. He doesn't think his pulse has ever felt so fast. He isn't sure what to make of that any more than the desperate grip on his shoulder. Unconsciously -- maybe it's his keyed up state, or maybe his grip responding to hers -- he tightens his hand on her neck, holding her to him.

Humans seemed to enjoy this. 9S isn't certain he's experiencing "fun" at the moment as much as very compartmentalized panic. But it isn't unpleasant. He's in no rush to draw away. There's something unexpectedly personal in her imperfect reciprocation, and he's helplessly attracted to that small window into her inner self. She's always stifling herself. It may be that she's never exposed herself so fully; it may be that he's experiencing the most of her anyone ever will.

Again, he has a lot of questions about what he's supposed to do now. If it were up to him, if he could throw all caution to the wind and not worry about what 2B would think, he'd kiss her again. There wouldn't be much logical reason to it, except to see if they could manage to do it a little less awkwardly than the first time. Maybe it gets more enjoyable when you do it right. Truly, kissing her again would only be an indulgence. Their bodies against each other, the tender touch of her lips -- it feels like some part of her belongs to him in this moment, and a buried voice in him clamors for more. Selfish. Possessive.

Unreasonable. He knows that. Thankfully, he's saved from having to wrestle any more with himself when a friendly ding! chimes from the locked door, and a small red light beside it flips to green. ]

BOBA THIS IS SO LATE I'M SORRY I LOVE THIS THREAD I JUST SUCK!!!

[undeserved]

[ She feels him pull her in more; she isn't surprised, she doesn't resist. She already failed to resist any of this - trying again now would be just twist the knife and hurt both of them more. And she knew from the start that this could never "not mean anything," because she knows, has known many times, that she means something to him, and that this confused lie of a "partnership" they have means more than that. 2B can't know what he's thinking in this moment; she can only guess at what he's feeling, from the leather glove at her nape urgently holding her closer and the gentle, unfamiliar shape of his lips against hers.

In a just world, she could focus on that alone - 9S, not an iteration or a liability or a target, just another android, just a boy, existing in this world with her, sharing this strange, awkward, pleasant experience with her - but she can't, and even when she thinks for a second she can almost forget the rest, the mechanism on the door unlocks with a ding and reminds her that she can't. For the sake of the mission. She has duties, and she must attend to them. Nothing else can matter.

2B is slower to part from him than she should be, given her reluctance to do this in the first place. When the sound goes off, she lingers just a second longer than she should rather than jolting away. But she does move away, straightening back up, her unconscious vice-grip on his shoulder relenting (with some guilt on her part, realizing she'd been holding him so tightly.) They did it. It's over. Her eyes feel a little damp behind her goggles, and she hopes hollowly that dampness didn't bleed through the material.

Something hurts inside, knowing this can't be again. She feels it setting in immediately. She's a fool. Without a word, or even a glance, she steps around him, heels clicking as she starts heading straight for the door. Focus on the mission. That's all she needs to do. ]