(no subject)

[explores]

[ Bothering his Prince is one of his ritualistic habits, but never so early in the morning. That's typically because Gino isn't up so early in the morning, if he can help it. He's a late sleeper by nature, even if his upbringing and his duties have never really enabled him to do much of it. That's not to say he's not a morning person—he just prefers to sleep in like a fatass if he has a choice.

Not today, though. He's been at work thanks to a fire breakout in the Knightmare Frame hangar, where he played amateur fireman and got a wicked little scald on the heel of his hand after the fact for leaning up against the heated metal of the Tristan. Anybody could have warned him not to do that, but nobody did (because nobody thought he'd be dumb enough to need it). In all, though, no real damage was done, but all the Frames needed to be taken out for flight inspection, just to be sure.

By the time he gets back from that late night escapade it's five in the morning and he fully intends to give Lelouch his report, as is standard procedure—informally, of course, by going to his room to tell him all about it, in great detail, using all his excellent skills as a storyteller, rather than his poor ones as a debriefer. He doesn't bother to knock, he just tries the knob and lets himself in, sweeping his cape out of his way as he closes the door behind him.

It takes him about half a second to realize that Lelouch isn't up yet (how odd), but that doesn't stop him from clapping his hands (ouch, forgot about the burn) and whistling under his breath. ]

Lelouuuuuch, wake up! Don't you know it isn't proper to sleep later than your subordinates?!

[ That's a good joke. He's been up since 2 in the morning. ]

Comments

[adjudication]

[There's movement somewhere in the sheets, which all but drown him in his bed, spacious as it is, only the top of a dark head of hair peeping from beneath the edge. The sound he makes in recognition, the rustling of the sheets as he rolls over, is quiet, yet plenty audible in the silence of the palace at this hour.

When he speaks, it's dampened and soft by sleep, yet surprisingly coherent and unmuffled. He even manages to sound like he's being quite patient with the other young man. Which, frankly, he is. There better be a good reason for this.]

Is there something you need me for, Gino?

[explores]

Yes, of course there is! A terrible emergency of veritable urgency.

[ He makes his way over to the side of the bed, brushing off any pretenses of giving a fuck about interrupting His Highness' Royal Beauty Sleep. There's a faint wince as he peels his slightly charred glove from his right hand (good thing I'm a lefty) and holds it out for Lelouch to see, wrist turning this way and that until he manages to find a beam of light to make the shiny, pink burn on his hand more visible. ]

I'll have you know I almost died tonight, and here's the proof. It's okay, I survived. Just barely, though! And with a grievous injury!

[adjudication]

[From this distance, Lelouch's face is actually visible from under the sheets, eyes finally cracking open to regard the blond towering before him. Since apparently it's a matter that requires such attention, he pretty much gives up attempting to ignore it and decides he might as well push himself up, blankets carelessly slipping off bare skin as he does.

It takes a dazed moment for his brain to catch up, for his eyes to catch the injury at hand (hah) in the low, hazy light of pre-dawn, mixed with the distant, warm glow that often shrouds the capitol during its darker hours. When it registers, however, the haziness on his face is gone in an instant, replaced instead with sudden concern, one of his own hands reaching outward at once, in askance.]

What happened?

[explores]

[ Gino certainly notes the lack of upper body clothing, but he doesn't make any remark, looking back down at his hand and becoming a little impressed by how cool it looks. Which is funny, because it still burns like a mother fucking whore, but it's nothing so awful that he simply won't go on living about it.

He extends his hand for Lelouch to get a better look, almost prideful about it. His war wounds are cool, okay. They make him look tough. ]

There was a fire in the hangar. Faulty wiring, apparently. There wasn't any major structural damage and all of the KMFs were fine, but I got this horrible, painful affliction trying to put the fire out.

[ No, he got it from being stupid, but his version of the story is much cooler. ]

[adjudication]

[Which he doesn't buy for a second.]

You know you really should leave things like these to people better equipped for the job.

[Gino's hands are quite nice, broad and graceful and kept carefully in spite of his profession, yet they're a stark contrast to Lelouch's own, soft and spindly and porcelain pale by comparsion. It's not something he stops to let himself appreciate as of now, though, as he inspects it with minor bending and flexing of his hand. If Gino winces at all, he doesn't stop to notice that either.]

Have you had this looked at yet?

[explores]

[ He doesn't, but only because he's focused on looking Tough, and tough guys don't wince about burns on their hands. All he does is shrug one shoulder, watching Lelouch move his hand around with a faint crinkle in the corners of his eyes. As close to grimacing as he's going to get. ]

It's not my fault, they called me in! And yeah, they looked it over on the scene. I was told not to bandage it, but it still stings—a little bit.

[ A lot a bit. ]

Buuuuuut, as you know, all serious damage to your property can't go unreported, so here I am!

[adjudication]

[Lelouch's expression doesn't change, though he releases his hold and straightens back up with a faint sigh.]

Go get my kit.

[The one under the sink in the bathroom. He knows Gino knows which one. It's not frequent, but things like these have happened enough times that Lelouch doesn't need to clarify.]

[explores]

Aw, you don't have to do anything. You could just kiss it better.

[ Mm... well okay, maybe not. That would probably still hurt. He turns his hand over, flicking his wrist daintily. It looks pretty silly, coming from him. ]

Maybe just this side, instead?

[adjudication]

Me? Kiss the back of your hand. That's a bit backwards, isn't it?

[He offers a tired smile, head tilting slightly.]

[explores]

We're backwards people, aren't we? If the shoe fits, and all that.

[ KISS MY FUCKING HAND ]

[adjudication]

Let me put salve on it first. Then I'll think about it.

[NO.]

[explores]

But you'll get that stuff on your mouth if you do it then! Gross.

[adjudication]

You weren't asking me to kiss where I'd be putting salve in the first place.

[Casually shooing you now, you silly, obstinate tree.]

And that wasn't a suggestion.

[explores]

[ Sighing dramatically. He gets up and goes to fetch the kit, dumping it unceremoniously next to him. ]

It better not be the stuff that smells bad.

[adjudication]

I don't see how you're in any position to complain. It hurts doesn't it? This will help.

[Lelouch speaks as if addressing a child, digging through the efficiently-packed box for the tin in question, uncapping it and daubing some on his fingers. It smells faintly of both chemicals and eucalyptus, neither of which are particularly offensive.]

[explores]

[ Gino still crinkles his nose anyway, mostly to be arbitrary, but obediently holds his hand out palm-up to be treated with all the patience of someone far older and less petulant than himself. ]

I actually got this from touching heated metal after the fire was out... it didn't occur to me that Tristan would be so hot.

[adjudication]

[Lelouch says nothing at first, just gently begins applying the substance, his touches light, methodical.]

You didn't mention the Tristan got involved.

[explores]

[ He makes a small hissing sound, in spite of himself, but bites back the urge to wince. He's Tough, he can take it. ]

Oh—yeah. The fire burned between Tristan and Mordred, and it was traveling toward Percival. [ Frankly Percival should've burned. ] I think the... lift machine they use to perform maintenance to the upper portion was what malfunctioned.

[adjudication]

[His eyes narrow faintly, but he says nothing. His dissatisfaction is clear enough.]

I see. I take it, however, that only minor repairs will be needed.

[explores]

We took all the frames in the hangar out for test runs and proper inspection... all they really need is a little polish. Nothing to worry about.

[adjudication]

Good. It wouldn't do to have them compromised. As for our maintenance crews...

[Well, he stops there at least, and simply continues on with his work. He doesn't need to state his thoughts explicitly; his high standards are already gaining him a bit of a reputation. Not one quite as hard-nosed as Cornelia, but not much more forgiving.]

[explores]

[ A good-natured roll of his eyes, something he could never get away with while serving his previous tight-ass. He leaves his arm extended and slumps forward on the bed, crouched down beside it and letting his head drop into the expansive, luxurious sheets with a soft whump.

... sniff. ]

Smells like lilies. New soap?

casually makes the same exact face back at him

[adjudication]

I believe so, yes.

[Gino can have the chance to make himself a little more comfortable, at least, because Lelouch releases his hand shortly after that, leaning towards his nightstand drawer for a moist towelette to wipe his fingers off with. Of course, the scoot just drags his blankets down further, and the glimpse of hipbones makes it clear how much he's lacking in clothing right now.]

[explores]

Nice.

[ Snuffling into the blankets. His hand drops against a nearby pillow and it's only after that that he opens his eyes again, looking to see what he's reaching for, and getting just a little more of an eyeful than he was really planning on. His eyebrows raise but that's about all the reaction there is. ]

I wish they would use that stuff on my sheets, it always just smells like starch and lemon, bleh.

[adjudication]

I'm sure you could request it.

[He shouldn't be too surprised when he tosses the towelette in the trash and turns back to find his knight looking right back at him. The tiniest bit of heat creeps to his cheeks, but he neither says nor does anything about it. It's rare that Lelouch can entirely shake the feeling of being exposed around another person, but it's rarely an unpleasant sensation around the blond.

After all, what does he really have left to hide from him?]