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Marco was busy mopping the floor of the Diaz kitchen, when he frowned and looked over his shoulder. Star, Jackie, Kelly, Tom, and Hekapoo were seated over at the kitchen counter, seemingly staring at him rather intently with a vague red glow on their cheeks.
“Is there a problem?”
“Problem? W-what problem? No, no problem here whatsoever, Marco, hehehe.”
“Nope, Diaz, nothing’s happening.”
“Nothing whatsoever.”
“Just pretend we’re not here, bro.”
“Why are you staring at us, Muscles?”
The Latino threw a flat stare at the demoness, before eyeing the rest of the group with clear scepticism. “Riiiiight…I’ll just get back to cleaning up the place, then.”
Gripping the mop with his right hand, Marco leaned down to pick up a strand of hair left on the floor, unwittingly raising the shorts he wore in the air for the world to see. Somehow, the human felt five pairs of eyes fondle the rump his garment concealed, and he instantly stood up and turned around towards his audience.
Five pairs of mouths were puckered, each whistling a different tune without tone or any sense of order. Every person was nonchalantly staring elsewhere, each towards some random object in the living room.
“You sure there isn’t anything I can do for you?”
“Nooo, just keep cleaning, Wild Man.”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
“No, nothing.”
“Nothing, bro.”
“I can perfectly do it myself, thank you very much. Assuming I needed anything in the first place, Muscles.”
Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Marco shook his head and continued mopping the floor. A few minutes passed, and he soon became engrossed with his work once more. The room seemed to be getting warmer, though, and the human began to feel the sweat trickling down his forehead and chest. He was soaked from heat and exhaustion, and without a moment’s hesitation he slipped the shirt off, exposing his glistening pectorals and his hardening abdominal muscles: six firm and rigid bumps over his belly, meticulously obtained through months of strenuous exercise, insane fast-paced adventures, and savage monster-fighting—
A perfectly timed chorus of gasps and contented sighs reminded him that he wasn’t the only person in the room. Marco whirled round, now particularly irritated.
“Okay, seriously, is there something happening that I’m not aware of?!”
“Everyone’s staring at your hot bod,” Janna nonchalantly replied, munching on some cake from the couch.
“Janna!”