Chemi-strings

Same

Blood type: iced coffee

“Tighter-??” He moves out of the way, letting Asher basically barge into the apartment as they pleased. “They’re regular jeans…” Isha weakly protests and looks down at himself. He thought he did okay.

“Honey, we don’t do regular. Pants. Off. Where’s your dresser?” they ask, looking around the house in the meantime.

The apartment is simple, orderly piles of junk laying on surfaces. “Pants are in the closet…?” He comments, opening the door to the small wall closet. Isha backs away from the entrance and gives and awkward gesture. Anything he would pull out probably wouldn’t be approved of anyway. 

Asher walks over and starts pulling out pairs of pants, only looking at them briefly before shaking their head and folding them back up. Finally they find a pair of dark jeans that looks acceptable and they shove it towards Isha. “There. The shirt… will have to do.”

He steps into the bathroom to quickly change, when he returns its obvious there's a bit of discomfort with his image. "What sort of place are we going that calls for this?"

“Precious carnivore needle teeth~!”

“How do you even manage to not bring fur in on your clothes? Isn’t the boss allergic?”

“The glorious invention of lint rollers and a dryer.”

"I dunno, I have trouble getting stains out of my lab coat. Maybe you've got some laundry magic up your sleeves."

“Precious carnivore needle teeth~!”

“How do you even manage to not bring fur in on your clothes? Isn’t the boss allergic?”

“Tighter-??” He moves out of the way, letting Asher basically barge into the apartment as they pleased. “They’re regular jeans…” Isha weakly protests and looks down at himself. He thought he did okay.

“Honey, we don’t do regular. Pants. Off. Where’s your dresser?” they ask, looking around the house in the meantime.

The apartment is simple, orderly piles of junk laying on surfaces. “Pants are in the closet...?” He comments, opening the door to the small wall closet. Isha backs away from the entrance and gives and awkward gesture. Anything he would pull out probably wouldn’t be approved of anyway. 

“Partying clothes…?” There was no way he owned anything that would be remotely acceptable to Asher. He texts his address as the only response and attempts to pull something that can be described casual out of his closet to change into.

About twenty minutes later there’s the hum of an engine approaching Isha’s place. Asher parks their motorcycle, pulling off their helmet and walking to the front door, ringing the doorbell.

That did not sound like a car. If it was a car, that didn’t sound like a safe car. Hesitantly Isha made his way to the door, looking through the peephole before opening the door for Asher. “That was pretty quick-!” 

They look him up and down, then frown, before pushing him back inside. “Nope, no, not gonna happen. Pull off those pants, surely you have something tighter…”

“Tighter-??” He moves out of the way, letting Asher basically barge into the apartment as they pleased. “They’re regular jeans...” Isha weakly protests and looks down at himself. He thought he did okay.

“You weren’t planning on doing it?”

“Of course not! Cats are dangerous enough without threatening them with a pair of loud buzzers.”

“Argon is harmless. Granted… claws.”

“Claws yes. Especially claws. And little carnivore needle teeth.”

“You weren’t planning on doing it?”

“Of course not! Cats are dangerous enough without threatening them with a pair of loud buzzers.”

“I’m filing a work complaint, if Celine messages me about violas being small cellos again I’m shaving her cat into a lion.”

“That would be… really cute actually if Argon had enough fur to do that.”

“… You’re not supposed to AGREE with me-!!”

“But it would be cute..”

“It was supposed to be a threat, Celine…”

“Oh! Then… how frightening! Poor Argon!”

“It’s not a threat anymore if you know I’m not going to follow through....”

“I’m filing a work complaint, if Celine messages me about violas being small cellos again I’m shaving her cat into a lion.”

“That would be… really cute actually if Argon had enough fur to do that.”

“… You’re not supposed to AGREE with me-!!”

“But it would be cute..”

“It was supposed to be a threat, Celine...”