The computer says there's a steadily increasing likelihood that the enemy is going to headbutt him, and then bite his lips off. This, Midnighter has learned, means he's about to be kissed. The computer doesn't understand, or care to calculate for, human affection or sexuality. It sees everything as a threat, and that's--

So much less nice than a kiss. Midnighter hasn't been kissed since... since Matt. It's so indescribably nice to get that out of his system. Matt is no longer the last person who held his face, or kissed him, or... stuck his tongue in his mouth. Well, no argument there. Midnighter returns the kiss with enthusiasm, sighing with pleasure when it ends. He can't quite stop smiling, and it's still the sharp grin of before-- his expressions are always sharp, something about the cut of his face-- but it reaches his eyes, now.

"So does magician, or whatever the fuck you are." His voice is low with affection, despite his words. "Have you discovered the impressive assortment of showers back on the tin can they had us living in?"