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[ 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. ]

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[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.]

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?

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

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

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

[ KISS MY FUCKING HAND ]

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

[NO.]

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

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.

[ 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.

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.]

[ 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.

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

You didn't mention the Tristan got involved.

[ 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.

[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.

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.

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.]

[ 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?

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.]

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.

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?]

[ There isn't much, and that's mostly why Gino doesn't overreact. Of course, it's been a long time since he's really seen Lelouch in a compromising sort of way, but even still, there's just a natural ease between them by now that he doesn't really think twice about.

He starts to get up, wincing in earnest as he stretches because being crouched forever sucks. ]

Maybe. Scoot over.

[ casually invades his bed ]

As if there isn't already plenty of space?

[At the very least, he pulls the sheets back actually rather invitingly, and he's showing some thigh now. Whatever, it's still nothing new.]

[ Ah, under the sheets, even better. He makes at least some half-hearted attempt at not peeking at that lovely flash of skin (which he knows has got to be warm and way soft), extricating himself from his uniform jacket and sliding onto the bed. Naturally, he takes up a good chunk of it, but there wasn't really a need for Lelouch to move over at all. Especially not since he doesn't mind being close to him at all.

Quite the contrary. ]

Ughhhh. Too comfy! I'm exhausted, good night.

[ Mashing his head into a pillow. He actually is incredibly exhausted, what with having been up since two in the morning and fighting a fire all night, but still. Didn't come here to sleep. ]

[Be that as it may, Lelouch still attempts to tug that blanket over the two of them as best he can—his legs are really long and really far away, okay—scooting upward as he does. In spite of the intuitive way to stagger their height difference, he's inclined to press his face into those golden tufts instead, arm slung about his broad shoulders, the other's face tucked against his collarbone. Gino's hair smells of his shampoo, and even more faintly of what he assumes smoke from earlier. It's only moderately jarring, however, because the more he quietly breathes it in, the less he smells it and the more relaxed he gets.]

[ He's stiff, at first—not stiff like resistant or embarrassed, stiff like his muscles are sore, like work has been tough—but he inhales quietly and nuzzles right in, draping an arm around Lelouch's middle and hugging him close. From there it's mere moments before the tension starts to leave him, although that may very well be because he is so tired, and this is so comfortable, and Lelouch is so—Lelouch, it puts him close to the edge of sleep faster than it really should.

He starts to mumble something just to get a conversation going so he doesn't knock out right off the bat, but it comes out as a half-formed nnrr, and that's all she wrote. He passes the fuck out in what has to be record timing. ]

[With the warmth radiating through the other man's clothing, it's really quite difficult for him to stay awake even if he had wanted to. Which he doesn't, particularly, not fighting the way he drifts right back off with relative ease shortly after him. He doesn't budge from his position, either, not even by the time crisp, cool dawn light starts seeping past the gap in his blinds and, theoretically, it becomes a reasonable enough hour for him to wake up and stay awake.

Except he must not want to, because he just simply doesn't. It might have to be up to Gino, yet again.]

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casually makes the same exact face back at him

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