Shark and Sinbad were in the shower, listening to father and daughter arguing.
It wasn’t so much arguing as it was Lolly pleading her case with lines such as, “He started it!” and, “He’s being a baby about all of this!” and even, “It was a joke!”
Needless to say, her argument fell flat. In the end, Dennis grounded her to the tune of, “No TV and movies for a week!”
After that, the two heard loud shrieking, a cry of “That’s not fair!” and a door slamming. A few moments of silence, and the two spoke with hushed voices.
“Is it wrong that I kind of feel bad for her?” Shark leaned on Sinbad as he spoke. “I mean, she’s only a teenager.”
“And that gives her the right to wreck your stuff because…?” Instead of continuing to pursue this topic, Shark changed to another one.
“What made you decide to accompany Amy to her appointment?” Shark decided he was going to ask what made his boyfriend do something so oddly out of character.
The redhead shrugged at that. “She’s cool. And she needs some kind of support. Blondie sure as hell ain’t gonna step up.”
A nod from the brunet meant that he understood. He then fidgeted a little, as though trying to get out of the shower stream.
“Sinbad, I think the water’s too hot.” Sinbad looked at him, and made a face like he didn’t believe him.
“You serious? I actually have it on cooler than usual.”
“No way. I swear that water’s hot enough to burn.”
Shark’s boyfriend still wasn’t convinced. He took hold of his hand, and held it under the running water. After bracing himself, Shark discovered that, indeed, it was merely lukewarm.
“That can’t be right. I thought it was hot.”
“Uh, well, you are in here with me, so…” It was still a hard call as to whether that was the actual reason.
For a while after that, the two were silent. Sinbad held Shark closer, before sticking out his tongue and beginning to lick the brunet’s neck.
The sensation was pleasant enough for Shark to turn around and rest his forehead against Sinbad’s.
Shark was certain that Sinbad was the one who started scrubbing. He remembered soap in his hair, his scalp being worked with accordingly.
Then he remembered beginning to do the same to Sinbad. Instead of a romantic resolution, though, his turn ended with the redhead screaming.
“Holy shit, man! That burns!” Sinbad held a hand over his eye, refusing to let Shark look at it while he howled mercilessly.
“It was an accident! I’m sorry!”
Sinbad carried on like he just got punched in the face. “Sorry don’t get the soap out of my eye, Shark!”
“Well, let me look at it! How bad is it?” Reluctantly, Sinbad uncovered his eye, revealing that which was causing the redhead such pain.
“Oh, no.” Peeking his head out of the shower stall, Shark called for his father.
It wasn’t the first time Dennis was confronted with helping someone wet and naked in some way.
“Mister Rotter, will you please stop trying to rub it out? It won’t do you any good.” Shark stood off to the corner, embarrassed as he could be. He quietly watched his father apply cold water to his boyfriend’s irritated eye.
“Well, sorry boss! It burns!” The patriarch rolled his eyes.
“Yes, I am aware that it does, sir. But I highly doubt the boy intentionally squirted soap into your eye to hurt you on purpose.” Dennis looked over to his son. “Right?” Shark could only nod.
Shark and Sinbad were in bed that night, with Shark still quietly lamenting over the potential damage he could’ve done to his boyfriend’s eyesight.
“Can I see?” Sinbad was looking at the book Shark had when he was prompted about his eye’s current state.
“Well, I ain’t going blind, so…” A quick glance showed his eye as quite normal-looking. “And it ain’t burning anymore, so I think I’m good.”
Shark breathed a sigh of relief at this. “I’m still really sorry about that.”
The redhead snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. Let’s just get some sleep, yeah?”
“Ohhhh, I am so dead…” It was one thing to break something by accident. It was another to destroy more than one of something created by someone else. Marc bit his lip when he dialed the number of his mentor.
“Mister Clay, I broke one of the exhibit sets. Mister Clay, I broke one of the exhibit sets.” He repeated this confession over and over out loud. The phone rang twice before being picked up.
“Hello? Marc, is that you?” The elderly man’s voice felt like a knife tearing through his chest. His thought-out line became a jumble of incoherence upon trying to say it.
Overcome with embarrassment, he hung up and then put his head in his hands. No matter how nice Mister Clay was to him, and no matter how pleasant he generally was, Marc was still afraid of incurring the man’s wrath over this.
Marc was unsure how long it would be until he got back. It could be tomorrow, or it could be another week. However long it took, though, he just hoped that his penalty for ruining things wasn’t a devastating one.