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"Eugene."
"No."
"Eugene. Gene. Genie-Genie-Gene. Eugene." Honestly, the man's worse than a puppy. An aggressively ginger, yammering puppy with abysmal taste in music and way too much interested in other people's personal lives.
"I can virtually guarantee I don't care whatever gossip you've picked up on this time," Eugene says, putting the headphones carefully down against the soundboard. Four CDs and an iPod fall to the floor anyway.
Jack pouts. "Slander," he says petulantly. "Complete besmirchery. It's no idle gossip, m'love, it's natural instinct."
Eugene nods distractedly. He bends at the waist in his seat, reaching for his crutches under the table, fingers wiggling. "Natural instinct," he scoffs. "Go on, then. Tell me who's making moony eyes at who this week."
Jack snatches the crutches up and props his arms up on them, resting his chin on his forearms. "I will them, if you're so interested," he says. "D'you reckon Sam and Runner Five fancy each other?"
"Aren't you a bit behind the times," Eugene says. He reaches for his crutches, but Jack pulls them back out of reach. "Wasn't Sam and Alice a thing, like, months ago? And Alice is also kind of dead. I know there's no wifi anymore or anything, but honestly. Keep up."
Jack rolls his eyes. "Not Alice, you bugger," he says. "The new one. What's-her-name."
"Ah yeah," Eugene says. "Her. She's a sketchy character, isn't she?"
"Irrelevant," Jack says. "But yeah, I think so too. The point is, Sam wants in on those speedy gams."
Eugene winces. "Don't use the word gams. We've talked about this." He snatches his crutches back from Jack and props himself to his feet. "Besides, Sam's still crying himself to sleep at night with Alice's dirty T-shirts. He's not going to rebound on the next morally-ambiguous Runner Five to hop out of a smoking helicopter."
"Oh, you don't think so?" Jack says. "When has my natural instinct ever been wrong?"
"I don't want to start naming names, or missing body parts," Eugene says pointedly, "because that would be mean. So I'm just going to not say anything."
"You are such a bitter old man," Jack says, opening the shack door for him and locking it behind them. "I can't believe a bohemian spirit like me was seduced by such a grudge."
"Bohemian spirit," Eugene repeats. "Bohemian spirit. That's going on air."
Jack sticks his tongue out at him, then says, "I was right about Janine and Evan. Remember?"
"I don't want to remember," Eugene says, his face scrunching up at the very memory. "That was the most horrible experience of my life. And I lost my leg during the zombie apocalypse."
"And I was right about Simon-"
"Simon sleeps with everyone," Eugene says, before Jack can start going down the list. "He doesn't count. Give your shipping heart a break for one day, Jack."
"I'll get to the bottom of this one, Mr. Woods," Jack says, raising his eyebrows and punching his palm and generally making an effort to look ridiculous. "Just you wait."
"Yeah, yeah," Eugene says, and scrunches up his face when Jack kisses him on the nose.