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"… Can you put that out on me?" Hyperlaser mumbles deliriously, gazing at Zuka, his visor ever so slightly lifted. He leans against the railing, the duo perched above Zuka's shop, on the balcony. The atmosphere is hypnotic, almost dreamlike—the night sky, Crossroads illuminated by countless neon lights. There's something terribly easy to romanticize about the nightlife in Crossroads.
It'd recently become something of a routine for Hyperlaser to visit Zuka every few nights for a smoke and idle chatter until morning. After amending their rather awkward start by clarifying he was inspired by Zuka's past work, Hyperlaser was pleasantly surprised to find out they actually got along quite well.
"Hm?" Zuka appears to snap back from whatever caught his eye in the distance, his cigarette quietly crackles as he takes a long drag. Hyperlaser was already getting loopy from exhaustion, but watching Zuka gently part his lips, exhaling a plume of smoke… his head gets fuzzy. He finally seems to regains his senses at Zuka's next words: "Sorry, repeat that?"
Hyperlaser has never been a smoker, truthfully—one or two in his younger years, but reprimands from his supervisors at KORBLOX taught him sacrificing his combat performance wasn't worth it. That aside, the smell… it's indescribable. He won't describe it.
Still, Hyperlaser finds himself entranced by the habit. It reminds him of his gear's smoke—controlled, purposeful. If he was any less lucid he might even claim there was an art to it. An intimacy, even. Logically, he decides there isn't any, not inherently, anyway, but the thought is difficult to shake. A part of him with less restraint is just about ready to admit that he also simply thinks smoking is just attractive, full stop. He's not ready to confront that quite yet, though. He sighs absently.
"'Laser?" Zuka prods further as the silence drags on.
"Ah," Hyperlaser nearly flinches. "Sorry. Um." His face burns as he realizes what he said so carelessly before. "I… forgot." His quiet, gravelly voice cracks embarrassingly through the lie. Zuka simply chuckles in response. Whether or not he caught the lie, he doesn't indicate, for better or worse. To hide the nigh full-body shiver Hyperlaser barely fails to fight off, he straightens his posture and gently, albeit a little shakily, cracks his neck.
"Figured you'd be past being so nervous by now," Zuka scoffs playfully, blowing a little smoke at Hyperlaser's visor, who elicits a quiet, indignant huff in response. "Told ya this already, I'm not as impressive as the stories, 'Laser. Relax."
He's right! You're a grown ass Inphernal; gear, horns (mostly) and all. Act like one, Hyperlaser!