It was early. That much Angela was aware of. It was everything else about her current situation that seemed to be going quite pleasantly right over her head
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Oh, it was too early for the other person in that bed to be coherent so her sleepy words weren't met with much more than a brief stretch and trying to get closer to her again. Him again. Whichever. He didn't care. It'd take a little more before he realized something was a little off.
This was the sort of thing that had you groggily awake pretty damn fast, and looking like you were trying to feel yourself up... Which, okay, she kind of was, but she had to check some things to be sure.
"... No." Took her a moment, distracted as she was, to answer that one and rub at her eyes to try and clear her head of the last of the fog of sleep. "But--" how to put this, "not right. So not right."
"What's not right?" he asked, finally opening his eyes and seeing...someone a little different next to him. For a few moments, he thought he was just tired and seeing thing so when he rubbed his face and it didn't clear he finally figured out what might have happened.
Oh, yeah, so supportive, and Angela pursed her lips into something close to a pout and snaked an arm out to smack him in the shoulder. She never did that when it happened to him!
... Maybe.
Whatever, it was still mean, and that was today's method of complaint.
"What, it's not bad!" Hannibal said, blinking a few times to clear away the sleep so he could see her more closely. "I'm still bigger than you even when you're a dude. Still hot though."
"Just because I don't work out," she claimed, taking a moment to actually look down at herself. It was probably a little more than that, but she felt like she had to defend her guy self's masculinity, somehow.
"And... thank you. I think." It took a bit of consideration. This was still weird. "You really should've known I'd be hot already."
"Well, yeah, I've seen you like this before," he said, reaching up and flicking some of her hair with his fingers. Felt a little different too. More like his. "But, that was awhile ago and I wasn't sleeping in the same bed with you. I wonder if you have chicken legs."
Yes, he actually yanked the blanket up to check to see if her legs were in fact chicken like.
"I do not have chicken legs!" Didn't even look to check, no. She was too busy running her own fingers through her hair, and finding there was a lot less of it than she was used to.
"Oh, Angela, you kinda do," he said, reaching down underneath the blanket just to see if he could prove it by feeling one of those (chicken) legs. Yes, he thought the situation was funny more than anything else. "Or should I call you Angelo?"
"Oh, they're so chicken like," he said, nodding knowingly. "You're just in denial. It's okay though. I still like 'em, chicken like as they are. You're just scrawny."
To prove that point, Hannibal reached down again and poke her side.
"What, you can't even ask to borrow clothes, you just gotta steal?" he teased, already trying to twist away from her poking fingers because he was totally more ticklish and he did not need to be giggling.
"'Hannibal, can I borrow some of your clothes, please, honey?'" he intoned, pitching his voice high and girly and trying to retaliate with some tickling of his own.
"You poke and prod, sweetie, you get my mean side," Angela told him. Her mean side involved clothing theft (temporary) and not letting him wriggle away too gar.
Wait hey, she actually had the increased strength today to retaliate with more success than she might've had before! Had to take advantage of that.
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"Again?" she whined (so manly). "Really?"
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Or like she was a dude. That possibility hadn't made its way into his head yet.
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So, he started laughing. So supportive, yes.
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... Maybe.
Whatever, it was still mean, and that was today's method of complaint.
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He could say that. No discomfort here at all.
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"And... thank you. I think." It took a bit of consideration. This was still weird. "You really should've known I'd be hot already."
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Yes, he actually yanked the blanket up to check to see if her legs were in fact chicken like.
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A moment later, having checked for herself. "... And they are not chicken like." Little bit. Shhh.
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To prove that point, Hannibal reached down again and poke her side.
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And hey if he was going to poke her, she was going to poke back, and guess who the notoriously more ticklish one was?
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"'Hannibal, can I borrow some of your clothes, please, honey?'" he intoned, pitching his voice high and girly and trying to retaliate with some tickling of his own.
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Wait hey, she actually had the increased strength today to retaliate with more success than she might've had before! Had to take advantage of that.
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