[flynn, his irked expression becoming even more so at the pearl clutching comment, opens his mouth for yet another unhappy mouthful, but yuri beats him to the punch by leaving. thank you for listening for once! and that was not pearl clutching. it was desiring being sanitary and proper, something only the other man would find problematic. flynn gives a sigh when yuri's out of view. honestly...
rather than dwell on how wrong that assertion of pearl clutching was, all efforts go into finishing up the sandwich. a little sauce here, toss in some more raisins... there! perfect. by the time yuri returns, a nice big bite just got taken to sample the flavor. not bad, not bad at all. now to clean u--
or not yet. his intent to tidy up gets interrupted by roommate. rather than reply immediately, checking if nudity levels have gone down takes place first. no shirt, but pants. acceptable, even if the urge to mention blow-drying that hair barely gets bit back. for now? this is fine. not the best, but fine. flynn even gives a small, approving nod.]
No, I can do that muc...
[wait... something about this picture is off. it doesn't take any real effort to figure out what. flynn's eyes trail back down to yuri's abdomen while his face scrunches up in open confusion. a scar? a large one, at that. considering the lack of it appearing faded and the lack of any memory about when it possibly happened, whatever caused had to have been relatively recently. that confused, if concerned gaze then lifts itself so to meet yuri's eyes.]
no subject
rather than dwell on how wrong that assertion of pearl clutching was, all efforts go into finishing up the sandwich. a little sauce here, toss in some more raisins... there! perfect. by the time yuri returns, a nice big bite just got taken to sample the flavor. not bad, not bad at all. now to clean u--
or not yet. his intent to tidy up gets interrupted by roommate. rather than reply immediately, checking if nudity levels have gone down takes place first. no shirt, but pants. acceptable, even if the urge to mention blow-drying that hair barely gets bit back. for now? this is fine. not the best, but fine. flynn even gives a small, approving nod.]
No, I can do that muc...
[wait... something about this picture is off. it doesn't take any real effort to figure out what. flynn's eyes trail back down to yuri's abdomen while his face scrunches up in open confusion. a scar? a large one, at that. considering the lack of it appearing faded and the lack of any memory about when it possibly happened, whatever caused had to have been relatively recently. that confused, if concerned gaze then lifts itself so to meet yuri's eyes.]
When did that happen?
[what that is ought to be obvious.]