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A warped electronic chime blasts through the stale, empty lobby and the door swings open.
Popping her bubblegum between her teeth, Himiko doesn’t even bother looking up from the magazine on her lap, “Hiya, welcome to Kamino Video. If you can’t find what you’re looking for, the internet exists.”
The stranger laughs, and Himiko quickly realizes they’re not a stranger. The magazine falls to the ground as she jumps to her feet, and 'Touya!' dreamily falls from her lips.
Touya slinks around the corner, shoulders all slouched, and Himiko watches his scowl slip into a grin.
“Didn’t think I'd see you today.” She says, hopping up onto the counter as always. But when she does her tights snag on splintered wood, tearing a sizable slit just below the hem of her skirt. Himiko pouts, reaching for her thigh, but shrugs it off. She can always just steal more.
“Wasn’t supposed to,” Touya says, leaning into her space, “But he said it was slow. Thought you two could use a pick-me-up.”
With one hand, Touya brushes against the fresh rip in her tights, sliding a few fingers beneath the thin black fabric until Himiko’s skin prickles—the other hand dangles a small bag of something green right in front of her nose. One sniff sets her spine straight.
“Yep! Super duper slow- Tomura!” She shouts.
Touya watches her like usual, dark, greedy, and Himiko's two seconds from catching his lip with her teeth when the staff room door swings open.
“Whaddya want, Himi- oh.” Tomura says, shirt riding up his hip as he groggily scratches the side of his neck.
Touya raises the bag above his head; Tomura stops scratching, “Oh. Thought you were full of shit earlier.”
“Usually am. Not today.”
Tomura turns to kick open the staff room door again. Himiko climbs onto Touya’s back, wraps herself around his waist, lazily kissing his neck the whole way to the alley.
+++
Himiko always gets first drag. Smoke fills her lungs, and she smiles.
Satisfied with her hit, she leans forward and rests the blunt between Touya’s lips, then licks her own and tumbles back into Tomura’s chest. He rests his hands on her thighs, and Himiko shivers when skin finds skin. He unintentionally mirrors Touya’s hands, slipping a finger into the fraying hole in her tights.
“You hurt?” Tomura asks.
Himiko shakes her head, “Someone should fix the busted counters, though.”
“Or you could just stop sitting on the fucking counters.” Touya teases. He reaches forward with an already-half-smoked blunt between his thumb and finger, and Tomura chuckles under his breath as he accepts it.
“But she looks cute up there.” Tomura mumbles through his teeth, then surrounds them in a thick cloud.
“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He groans, snatching the blunt from Tomura’s fingers, “The ripped tights are hot, though.”
Himiko feels her face heat. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Don’t get used to it.” He says, and with lungs full of smoke, pulls Himiko into a kiss.