Amused chuckles lightly shake muscular frame, rearing back from the playful collision - had Vincent meant it he’d have managed to bloody his nose - and easing partway off Vincent so that a leg and wing are thrown over him to keep him trapped, while the upper half of Chaos’ torso is held upright by elbows planted on the mattress, chin cupped in his palm. ”And have you confused for a woman? I think not.” It also has nothing to do with Vincent’s ass then being in easy reach for a possessive hand to plant on, nope, nothing at all.
Being as there is no one of consequence to see such an unruly action, he pouts at being captured. The playful glare in his eyes reads, Don’t make me roughhouse you. Reaching up from his warm prison, he captures a lock of messy hair and tugs lightly. “Even though I volunteered as Mummy, do you suggest that you hold the position?" Tugging once more, slightly harder in represent of Arles, he narrows his eyes coyly. "You are, I think, the most qualified of us.” Completely oblivious to the true reasoning, he only thinks of the social disgrace he does not need. Turning into different beings is shameful enough; being carried like a naughty child would only be worse.
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