Tap!
Just as his fingers were about to make contact, another hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him cold.
Gen's eyes widened in shock. The hand belonged to a man with a blank iron mask. Y?
No. This man had a red hoodie. It was X.
Malachi snarled, trying to yank his hand free, but X's grip was strong. "Not so fast, pervert." X said, his voice calm and authoritative. "No matter how hard you are, touching a sleeping man isn't the answer."
"What?" Malachi looked up in confusion.
"This reminds me of the old days." X placed a hand around Malachi's shoulders like they were old friends. "Me, Y and whatever ladies we bring to the party. Slugging it out like a real rave. Good times, man. Good times." X pretended to wipe a tear from his mask and sniffed theatrically.
