[Seeing Manabu is a relief, but it also causes a little flutter of anxiety in Grey's chest. No more avoiding the consequences of his outburst. It's perhaps gracious of Manabu to break the silence first, although Grey winds up staring at him for a long moment trying to comprehend the question.]
...Fine.
[(Because you know, it's weird that Manabu might be concerned about Grey after he freaked out and locked himself in a bathroom for hours.)
Manabu doesn't seem to be doing all that great himself. He looks- and sounds- terrible, in fact. Grey's gaze traces over Manabu's form, wondering if he's doing worse because of Grey's outburst. Surely not? Surely...
Then the shirt situation finally clicks and Grey's hit with a curl of internal heat at the realization that Manabu's wearing his clothes, wrapped up in Grey's scent, like something that belongs to Grey. He wants to stride over and peel it off, run his hands over Manabu's body until the man goes limp and acquiescent.
Manabu would probably punch him if he actually tried that.
Grey shakes his head and scrapes a hand through his hair, trying desperately to obtain some semblance of composure. He can complain about the shirt later.]
About earlier...
Grey swallows, hesitates a beat, before stepping over to the bed and setting the tablet down on the edge of the mattress.]
no subject
...Fine.
[(Because you know, it's weird that Manabu might be concerned about Grey after he freaked out and locked himself in a bathroom for hours.)
Manabu doesn't seem to be doing all that great himself. He looks- and sounds- terrible, in fact. Grey's gaze traces over Manabu's form, wondering if he's doing worse because of Grey's outburst. Surely not? Surely...
Then the shirt situation finally clicks and Grey's hit with a curl of internal heat at the realization that Manabu's wearing his clothes, wrapped up in Grey's scent, like something that belongs to Grey. He wants to stride over and peel it off, run his hands over Manabu's body until the man goes limp and acquiescent.
Manabu would probably punch him if he actually tried that.
Grey shakes his head and scrapes a hand through his hair, trying desperately to obtain some semblance of composure. He can complain about the shirt later.]
About earlier...
Grey swallows, hesitates a beat, before stepping over to the bed and setting the tablet down on the edge of the mattress.]
...It won't happen again.
[God he hopes he's telling the truth.]