We die like Heavy Irons back
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Black Hook shivered as he felt digits ghost up his back, from his lower back up and up to stop around his neck, a servo wrapping around it with barely there pressure only to let go in favor of going down his back. "What's this about?" He mutters.
Heavy Iron leans against him, a warm weight on his back, arms wrapping around his waist, a head on his shoulder to whisper into his audials. "I would tell you but.. you alyways said that you hate preperations and I know that you like surprises."