there’s a growing urge to question reign & ask just what kind of fun he has. not long after THINKING about asking such a question, gene quickly realizes it would be a mistake. a faint ‘oh’ can be heard from the raven haired boy, eyes focused steadily on the splatters of red that decorate reign’s frame. it’s strange how he’s not alarmed, how he’s grown to be comfortable with such a sight. ( this, of course, comes from the idea that he doesn’t want reign thinking he’s about to snitch or anything! no, no, gene has put too much work into his life to have it be cut short at the ripe age of twenty! ) a hand goes into the pocket of his sweat pants, nearly cringing as attention is directed his way. ❛ oh, i had homework. a paper to write actually. uh… ❜ nails rake against tanned skin of the back of his neck. ❛ i was busy earlier. ❜ busy. reign’s a smart man who knows gene well. surely he can figure out himself what exactly ‘busy’ means. brows lift up upon hearing reign speak, questioning him if there’s any clothes he can switch into. ❛ i do, yeah. uh…. ❜ it’d be preferred if reign be at least, somewhat cleaned of blood before wearing anything of his. this side note is kept inside. reign probably wouldn’t like hearing such a thing. like a lost puppy, gene goes to follow reign to the kitchen, out of curiosity more than anything else. head tilts to one side, watching as the knife is throw into the now running sink. what it is that reign has on his mind, gene does not know. he’ll take the rummaging as a hint for something though. ❛ are you hungry? ❜ he sounds so small, quite the opposite of his appearance. surprise soon makes it’s return when his company speaks again, eyes growing nearly double in size. ❛ c…clean you? ❜ he blinks. ❛ sure, i mean, sure, uh…. how would you want me to clean you exactly? ❜ does he mean in the kitchen, with the running water from the faucet & a wash cloth? does he mean in the SHOWER? a bath? more details need to be provided.
there’s an odd sense of pride that fills him at the sound of gene’s surprise, and reign almost smiles. almost. instead, he shuts off the faucet and turns to rummage through the fridge. careless and rude, he doesn’t really comprehend that things aren’t his to take whenever he pleases ( and that includes gene ), and thus his actions don’t strike him as something bad. reign doesn’t really have any understanding of limits. never has. and eugene has yet to say something. “did i disturb you?” as if he cares. there’s no depth or meaning to his words, he’s asking more so to find out what gene will answer. wonders if he’ll be a good boy and please him like he always does. busy. it tastes funny in his mouth, and his attention shifts from remnants of what appears to have been gene’s dinner, to the man himself. a brow raises, smallest of curls to the side of his mouth. “another neglected housewife or was it one of the rare men this time?” he doesn’t really wait for an answer, or perhaps it’s just his reckless nature, but he’s on to the next thing that piques his interest. shutting the fridge door with idle fingers, his eyes trail to take in the taller’s visage, flickering only a second to his neck when he somehow awkwardly brushes a hand against the back of it, and reign licks his lips subconsciously. “not really.” as if to spite him, his stomach rumbles seconds after the poor lie. it’s no surprise that he’s got shitty karma, really. somewhat upset to find himself here, as always, reign simply offers a slight shrug. it’s always like this ; him coming to gene for reasons unknown to the both of them and lingering like a stormy cloud. he’s lost in thought until the uncertainty woven finley onto the other’s features pulls him back, and he blinks stupidly. “yes, clean me.” there’s a fleeting moment where reign has the audacity to entertain the thought of spending the night, having gene pamper him to a nice bath and clean the dried blood from under his finger nails but alas, life isn’t that sweet. to calm his racing mind and restless hands, he hoists himself up on the kitchen counter. “i don’t want a bath, just get a rag or something.” he mumbles in the midst of tugging his hoodie off, the cream coloured tee underneath tainted with deep reds. a hand goes to push his fringe back, and reign scratches at the dry patches of blood on his face.
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