Keep it light, keep it bright...[closed]
Characters: weedshyguy and justice_by_coma
Setting/Location: The hall outside his room, where the condoms used to be.
Date & Time: Day 30...whenever the bleeding starts (midday?)
Warnings: ...Blood.
Summary: Somebody has a crush...a gay crush. O noes.
( Bret Elizabeth McClegnie )
Setting/Location: The hall outside his room, where the condoms used to be.
Date & Time: Day 30...whenever the bleeding starts (midday?)
Warnings: ...Blood.
Summary: Somebody has a crush...a gay crush. O noes.
( Bret Elizabeth McClegnie )
And which was also why every room's occupants were clearly labeled. And in some places erased and replaced, and crossed off the attendance-type list at the bottom, while new names were added. There was a fresh red star by Emma Pillsbury's crossed out name. More to figure out there later...
It wasn't hard to find Bret since he knew what the guy looked like. They'd come to the world at the same time after all. And they'd battled evil not-wolves. Well...while Gau had spiritedly tried to save women, and organize a retreat, with Bret talking about sex of some form or another in the background while Rookie did valiant things and saved them all. (In his recollections he was usually being valiant, even if he was in fact just offering handkerchiefs and throwing smoke pellets.)
Still, he wouldn't forget this corridor. He'd spent an hour cleaning it in anticipation of children being brought back.
And of course most people were rarely in their rooms.
And this, for everything was probably the best possible use for the thing. It was more like...a good luck charm, anyway. And he didn't really expect Bret to be there, but even then he had a few assorted french pastries to disguise the little home-made envelope with its message in Gau's blunt all-caps:
TRY NOT TO USE THIS ONE FOR A BALLOON wrapped around a certain...little package.
He deposited it at the door, consulting his notebook while referencing how to spell Bret's last name on the envelope with a forwn and a squint.
He completely missed the fact that Bret was staring at the wall not ten feet from where he was.
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Maybe it was a tiny bomb or something.
Or poisoned pastries.
Not that Bret was anybody's target, as far as he knew, but he couldn't think of any good reason for a present to make him this nervous. Or was it embarrassed? He didn't know. His stomach was flip-flopping like crazy, anyway.
The guy hadn't seemed to have seen him. Bret cleared his throat and gave a little wave. "That for me?" Wait, when did his voice get so high?
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Oh. Well. Clearly his vigilance was slipping! He strung out a long list of mental rebukes, and held the basket out stiffly in front of him. "...Well who else would it be for?" He muttered, scowling to try to hide his embarrassment.
"I mean...since we were talking earlier, it made sense to approach you and make sure you were cared for. As comrades pursuing the same cause, of course!"
He held the basket at arms length away from him.
"Anyway, it wouldn't be a problem if your family name wasn't hard to spell." He griped, totally oblivious to the subject change, or the obviousness of the excuses.
What was he doing there just standing outside his room, anyway?!
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Wait...what?
Bret took a confused step backwards as nonchalantly as possible. Squinting at Gau, he tried to remember what he'd said just before the whole smell think sort of blanked his mind out. "Uh...What's hard t--to spell about it?" Not that Bret was one to talk, since he apparently couldn't even get his words out properly...
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"It just is." He spat back, eyes narrowing. He was in full defense, and Gau like that wasn't about to let any little thing slip and show him in a light of incompetance.
He gritted his teeth, and went on with forced airiness, "Of course it doesn't matter when you're sneaking up on people. And you didn't tell me if you wanted anything in particular, so what's there is there! And if you have a problem with it, then I'm going to have to make something else and it will take time, and as for the other-!"
He cut himself off. "Well-! As for... You'd better use it properly! Don't squander it! Because getting-!" Gau huffed ineffectively, trying not to look as embarrassed as he actually was, and he reached out, jerking the envelope out of the basket, and thrusting it into Bret's hands. "It won't be easy to replace!" He hissed finally, not looking at him.
He had enough of this. While part of him was annoyed at giving up his good luck charms of sorts, ensuring preparedness and a plan, other parts of him were decidedly glad to be free of both condoms, and the question of whether or not they would ever get used.
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Oh, and now his nose was bleeding.
His nose was bleeding.
Bret quickly thrust the basket and envelope into Gau's hands, muttering stuttered apologies as he disappeared into his room and grabbed the first thing he found to bury his nose in. It appeared to be a used towel, but for now it would have to do.
Reappearing sheepishly in the doorway, he mumbled from behind his makeshift handkerchief, "Sorry...nosebleed. Must be...dr-- dry in here." Okay, the talking slow wasn't helping.
And flip, wishing he could still smell Gau was making the distressed butterflies in his stomach even more alarmed. Something weird was happening and Bret wasn't sure it was the kind of weird he liked.
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He stopped in his tracks as the man turned around with his towel. That...that really didn't look sanitary.
"Assistant Simmon-sama said something about allergies! You should see the caravan doctor and-! That can't be clean W-Well-!" He hooked the basket over his arm, fumbling in his pocket, withdrawing a white handkerchief, and making to press it against the other's face. "Here! Quickly! Don't you know how sick you can become from direct contact between a wound and a dirty object like that? Brit-san!"
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Which sounded silly, since, well, he knew it was the accent that was throwing him off and all. He cleared his throat in preparation for his best American impression: "Brrrrreeeeht."
Why did he sound like a cowboy?
Oh God, he sounded like such an idiot. Gau was gonna make fun of him like kids usually did. And adults too, but kids were so much meaner because, well. They were more accepting, weren't they? So if they don't like you...you must really suck.
At least Gau was almost an adult...
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He had no reason to mock. He just didn't know.
And after all, there were no seperate words for names in Japanese.
His brows knit grimly, eyeing the kandkerchief. "You're sure you're alright, Breet-san? Ugh." He made a face. "Naming in English is so complicated..." He groused in an undertone ot himself.
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"Eht," he mumbled, looking down, "'mokay..." He didn't feel okay, but this guy was already so excitable. No reason to worry him further.
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Static electrical buildup! This was why people shouldn't wear shoes indoors, scuffing their feet everywhere! He would have to tell Raikou! He wasn't going to let the man live down wearing shoes indoors on tatami mats...
"And...if it's 'Bret-san' then why don't you pronounce it that way? What's wrong with being 'Brit-san'? That's how you say it." He grumbled a little sullenly.
The man wasn't trying his pastries, and he didn't seem to remember about the envelope.
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Stumbling back into the wall, Bret shrugged. "'show it's spelled. My accent gets in the way, I guess. I'm from New Zealand, man. It's like Australia but better." Bret looked down, suddenly noticing the basket of food again. He bent down and took one of the pastries and began nibbling, if only so he didn't have to keep talking.
...Well. "This is good."
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Even Bret's reassuring of his cooking skill didn't help him feel much better.
"It's just a tart. Anyone could make it." He grumbled.
He felt stupid.
And he felt stupid for lashing out just because he felt stupid. What was he over here for, anyway?
"Well-! Just...! Just enjoy those! And I don't need the basket back!" He said, turning on his heel, his ears burning.
Bret. Britt. Barette. Brat.
How was he supposed to know how it was pronounced anymore? But he'd die before he'd admit he had no CLUE how to pronounce the other name he had. And being western, not using his personal name would just insult him more.
...There was just no winning with these people!
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"I have a nickname too, if that helps." Bret selected another pastry, looking it over as nonchalantly as possible. "Rhymenocerous."
Maybe Gau liked rap music and this would make them friends. That'd be nice.
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Praticularly Strauss Polkas.
And if anything the expression on his face made perfectly clear that that nickname was worse than the other two. It was the the brief flash of telltale panic. "Raimei-what?"
Raikou's sister's name was "Raimei".
That certainly didn't help matters.
Worse yet, the fact that effort was being made got through, which prompted Gau to airily try to help.
"Being...'Thunder' then..."
Raikou and Raimei.
Lightning and Thunder.
And Gau. Who was just a "Spring Shower".
"Well that...makes more sense, maybe."
He was trying. He was trying as well as he could. Having one name that made sense out of the bunch; one scrap of familiarity was that too much to hope for?
And if "Brit" corrected him, he really was going to get a headache.
Though at least he was nibbling those pastries...
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Bret smiled as encouragingly as possible. "Don't worry about it so much, man. 'sjust that 'Brit' is usually a girl's name and...um." Bret gestured at himself, his cheeks burning a little. "So...yeah."
Oh dear, he could smell him again. That was just-- seriously, what guy smelled like-- well, he smelled like a guy, but-- but in a good way? Bret cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to dispel the worrisome thoughts as quickly as they came.
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