"I don't remember anyone knowing about aftercare in that day and age," Bobo teases, the words fading off into a rumble at the prickling sensation along his scalp. It's enough to make him roll his head, causing the strands to pull tighter and send sharp, tiny pinpricks along his skin that send shivers along his spine.

Bobo chuckles softly, leaning to angle himself closer, letting his fingers dig a bit into Vasquez's arm. "Private works. I don't mind giving a show but not willing to let you get all shy," he taunts, but he lets himself move back enough, just a step, enough for them to move apart.