"T-this is wrong!" Avocado gasped in alarm, backing up into the table of the empty Café. Popsicle stepped closer, till he was just inches away from the younger male's face, leaning forward to rest his hands on the wood, pinning Avocado against the table. The brunette could feel his face flush with heat, and couldn't stop himself from gazing into Popsicle's bright blue eyes.
"Is it?" The older asked, slightly raising an eyebrow. Avocado could feel Popsicle's breath against his face…their lips were so very close, practically touching. "Because it feels right to me." Avocado's mind was clouding, he couldn't concentrate anymore, couldn't think of how to protest.
"But…but if someone…"
Popsicle pressed his lips against Avocado's…or had Avocado given in and pressed his lips against Popsicle's? He wasn't sure; his head was too fuzzy to tell. All he was sure of as he reached a hand up around Popsicle's head, threading his fingers through the other male's short, spiky hair to crash their lips harder together, was that Popsicle was completely right:
None of this felt wrong at all.