Everyone was always putting their hand on the back of your waist when they needed to walk by you.
Diavolo frequently did it, as he needed more space than the average person to get by and you often helped him when the RAD council room was overflowing with paperwork. It felt like his hand took up your entire back.
Solomon did it all the time during magic lessons. As his apprentice, it was important you had good posture for a good foundation of magical spell casting. Or, something of the sort. He used the same excuse to move your arms and get right up in your face when he felt like it.
Barbatos started doing it relatively recently. It was always accompanied by a polite "Pardon me," and he was always wearing gloves, but for some reason it still sent a tingle up your spine. You think he knew this.
You sort of snapped one day when Simeon did it, to no fault of his. He was gentle and he just needed you to scooch forward a bit so he could walk behind you. He softly placed his palm on the small of your back so he didn't bump you when he passed. For some reason this was the final straw and you deigned to take revenge.
You made your move the next time you were at Purgatory Hall. It was tea time. It was perfect.
Almost everyone was gathered in the living room, aside from Luke who kept leaving to procure various sweets from the kitchen. You had a spot of honor in the middle of the couch, warmly guarded on either side by Raphael and Simeon. Your bladder filled up quickly when they kept topping off your tea.
In time, when the black puddle tea had all been used up, Simeon offered to replace it. You waited until he came back into the room carrying a freshly brewed pot to announce, "I'll be right back."
You stood. Solomon, seated in an armchair, moved his legs so you could get by.
Simeon safely set the tea down on the table with a fine clack, and as he did so you lightly tapped your fingertips against his back. With Simeon's usual clothing, this resulted in touching bare skin. Smooth and firm. He was warmer than you anticipated. Possibly because of all the warm tea, or because his back was near the oven when he went into the kitchen.
It was such a high pitched squeal. Simeon immediately clapped a hand over his mouth and sky blue eyes turned to meet yours. He was rapidly turning red as he asked between those long delicate fingers, "Can you pretend you didn't hear that?"
Luke came running out of the kitchen, hand still gloved in an oven mitt. "Is someone injured? Do you need a bandage?"
"Everyone's fine," Solomon reported through muffled snickering. He almost choked on his drink and grabbed a napkin to deal with the tea dribbling down his chin.
"It's nothing you need to worry about," Raphael told him. He was busy pouring himself another cup.
That did little to stifle Luke's curiosity. "What happened? Simeon, did you burn yourself? Raise your head, I'll help you."
"I'm okay." Simeon did not raise his head. He hunched forward a little more and stared right at the ground, his eyes hidden behind long locks of hair. "The almond cookies are almost done, aren't they? Make sure those don't burn."
