Work Text:
Just a few days prior, Ze had a whole lashout complaining about Regect not helping around the house.
So when Regect woke up with both Moe and Ze absent and a note on the dinner table reading, “Out shopping. Home at 4pm,” it had a brilliant idea.
Well, what else other than to clean the house?
The house wasn't that dirty to begin with. Yeah, some dust here and there, but nothing major like spiders and cockroaches. Regect waltzed through the kitchen to the living room, dusting and sweeping the couch and floors, to wiping stains with wipes.
And after an hour’s work, the kitchen and living room combined were now.. presentably clean. (It chose to ignore the tucked away dust that it decided to hide instead of remove.)
Leaning against the doorway, it looked at the staircase. The bathroom, Ze’s workstation and his bedroom, Moe’s musicroom and her bedroom, and Regect’s own room. Those needed cleaning too. Right?
Regect didn't break a sweat cleaning the bathroom. Wiping countertops, cleaning the floor, rearranging toothbrushes. Those were easy, almost a bliss. The only complaint it had was the smell of bleach. Regect liked unusual smells like medicine, licorice, ash, ect. It drew the line at bleach and rain.
It would rather not think about it.
The next destination didn't need an answer, and inevitably was its own room.
But the porblem was its room was not at the slightest messy. A little dusty, maybe, due to lack of usage. The entity scoffed before shutting the door. It was not cleaning its own room.
Then.. that left it with only one room left. Ze’s room. Also known as The grumpy guy’s room. Or The dickhead’s room.
It curled its tail against the railings around the second floor. Does it go in? Is it even meant to clean Ze’s room? Would Ze brutally murder him for cleaning it? Would Ze brutally murder him for not cleaning it?
Ahh. Fuck it.
Regect almost gasped upon opening the door. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was messier than anyone would’ve had assumed. Ze wasn't a dirty or messy guy. Infact, he valued cleanliness — yelling at Regect to clean the house was a sign. So… why would his room be like this?
Its hand lingered on the surface of the door while it processed. Pieces of clothing thrown across the room, closet door ajar, and a roll of medical bandages rolled across the room. His nightstand had what Regect could only decipher as piles of documents and junk. Documents for what, exactly? Regect couldn't tell you.
It wasn't exactly dirty. Just very messy.
So Regect, as considerate as ever, settled on an idea. It’d just fold the clothes on the floor to a neat pile, put the scattered junk across the room back in place or into the bin, and then leave immediately.
Right, that was easy.
So why was Regect now suddenly digging its claws into its palm?
The clothes on the floor were mostly just hoodie after hoodie. Some of them are zip-ups, some just normal. The other half were just mostly black shirts. Regect couldn't even begin to fathom how much of the same hoodies Ze owned, chuckling to itself. After folding everything into a neat pile, the entity sat up and placed the pile against the closet door and just stood there.
Not looking at anything in particular, no signs of life, just standing.
It raised its palm to what was assumed to be its nose.
Then– “Holy shit. This room smells like Ze.”
Well… no shit. Not exactly Ze, but the cologne he wore, the subtle one that smelled sharply good. One of those scents you couldn't quite forget.
Regect wasn't distracted for long, as there was more things to do. He picked up the roll of medical bandage, re-rolling it before putting it on his desk. It knew Ze’s tendency of being irrational — getting himself hurt over incidents and fights, and decided to not question it.
Then it picked up ammo boxes. It stared at it for a moment as if anything would change. No, it didn't. Still the same. Ze really had ammo boxes just laying around. The entity couldn’t help but scoff, already sorting them into a pile.
Everything was going well so far. The floor was now somewhat navigable without tripping everything five seconds, although still undeniably messy. Not as messy as before though, Regect congratulated itself.
That left Ze’s nightstand and desk. They were impressively cluttered, to the point where Regect didn't even know they had the surface area to hold this abundance of junk.
Files upon files of documents, (for what?), books, (did Ze even read?), empty cans of energy drinks, (that’s– a lot of caffeine,) and folders. All of those fit on his nightstand and to say the least, it impressed Regect.
It sorted the books into one side and files onto the other, swept the can into the bin which stood at the corner of Ze’s room, busying its mind to not open them, to not look into the folders.
Regect didn't want to dig into other’s business; a small urge was pushing it to leave now before it gets nosy. Regect should’ve listened, honestly, because just as it held a folder in its hands, deciding which pile to place it in–
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?!”
Okay, well Regect’s fucked.
The entity stood up from the side of Ze’s bed, not completely walking towards the man but not avoiding him. Its hands flew up, folder still gripped. “Look, man. I’m trying to do you a favour here.”
Ze crossed his arms tight against his chest. “Favour? Touching my stuff is a favour?”
“Woah woah– I’m not doing that! You– You told me to clean the house, and that’s what I’m doing. Nothing else!” Regect’s tail was completely still, bumps on its skin forming as Ze walked closer.
“Oh yeah? What is that in your hand, then?” Ze urged, voice lowering dangerously. He now stood before the entity, just a step away, eyes glued to the folder in Regect’s hand. Regect swore it could hear Ze silently cursing its whole entire existence under his breath.
But Regect was confused. Like actually confused.
“I – don't know?..” Regect offered, its hand lowering shakily. “Dude, I’m only trying to sort out your nightstand. I don't know what significance this,” it stared at the folder for a second, “crappy blue folder has to you.”
The entity’s voice was surprisingly gentle. Ze didn't like the implications of that.
Now meeting Regect at its face, Ze let free his crossed arms. “You’re saying you didn't open it.”
“Nope. Didn't even think about it.”
Ze raised his eyebrow. “Not even a peek.”
“Nah.”
A sigh. “Okay,” Ze mumbled beneath his breath, taking the folder out of Regect’s hand. The entity let him without much struggle, before stepping aside as Ze came closer to his nightstand. His eyes scanned around the nightstand, before looking at his floor and the stacks of items Regect sorted out for him.
“You did this?” He made a gesture circling around the entire room.
Regect nervously chuckled, an undeniably smug one. “Heh, yeah. I told you I was gonna clean the house. Just wait till you see the kitchen.” It tapped its finger against its side.
Ze stayed unmoving for a moment. “You stacked my ammo,” he ignored the other’s previous reply, which earned a small tch, yeah, from Regect.
Just when Regect thought Ze was having the progression of not swearing at everyone (which mostly only included the entity itself), its thought was cut short.
“Okay. Thanks. Can you, like, get the fuck out of my room now.”
Shot in the head 50 times.
The entity was still. What? Helping Ze clean his room, sort out his junk and tidy up his mess – all for a thank you and now he’s kicking it out of his room? C’mon, Ze had to be at least a little impressed right? All in the span of twenty minutes too. Every book sorted, all the clothes perfectly folded. Regect didn't expect a trophy or something. Just maybe.. it expected an explanation? After getting wrongfully yelled at?
Whatever. Regect learnt to accept it. It would just leave, and not make a fuss–
“What’s in that folder?”
Wrong sentence.
Regect didn't dare move a single muscle. Ze mirrored it, both static. He looked shocked, confused, even – which made no sense to Regect as it’s meant to be the one who's confused. His mouth opened. Then closed. No words came out.
Okay, it had a chance to redeem itself.
“I was just wondering since you were–”
No. Wrong sentence again.
“It’s—” Ze bit the inside of his lip. “nothing. Nothing important.”
The entity tilted its head to the side, barely noticeable as all you’d really see was its eye rotating slightly. It really didn't wanna push, already rarely seeing Ze composed in a situation like such. But something was screaming at it to do so.
It has gotten so far, might aswell push it. Right?
“Please, man? I promise I won't tell anyone what’s inside. Like, I’m taking it to the grave with me. Which is if you’d even dig a grave with me, and that, I’m actually not so sure would happen-”
Ze’s grip on his folder tightened, fingertips going white, nail scratching against the scratchy surface of it. His eyebrows were furrowed, stern and difficult in the way they usually were when he found himself conflicted. He sat down on the edge of his bed, and tampered with the folder.
“Uhm, it’s more like a makeshift photo album rather than a folder, actually.” He held the cover like it was sacred before reluctantly flipping it over. Regect took this as an invitation to sit down beside the man, and it made sure to stay as quiet as possible.
The first pocket had a picture in it. A small one, not even close to the designated size of the folder which was A4. The surface of the picture looked polished, those glossy ones that you’d know are valued.
Ze’s expression had a mixture of emotions written on it. Regect tried not to read too deep.
“This one is, uh. Pictures of my sisters. It’s from ages ago, from Phoebe’s birthday. Fifth birthday.” He pointed to a girl with her hair tied into a small ponytail, a tiara on her head and a badge on her chest which spelled out happy birthday. Beside her was another girl, presumably Ana, both in sparkly princess dresses. A huge smile was plastered over both of their faces, so wide and cheery in contrast to Ze’s current look.
He wasn't upset. He didn't look upset. He just, in Regect’s words, looked melancholy. His hand rested on the plastic cover for a moment longer.
Regect only hummed in acknowledgment, sealing its queries away.
The folder flipped again. And this time, there was again one photo that was too small for an A4 folder. It was a landscape photo, one with colours too bright and lines too sharp for it to not be professionally taken.
The entity stared. The image had two people, which both slightly resembled Ze, wearing lavish clothing – probably an important photoshoot. The lady on the right had a gentle smile, thick, luscious hair and a sharp stare on her eyes. The man on the left, had a serious look. One that wasn't friendly or welcoming, more dangerous. And in his arms, held a baby.
“That’s me as a baby. I know, I look ugly. Let’s not talk about that.”
It was Ze. The picture had that gentle colourful blurry static that told you its age. Regect looked at Ze in the photo. He was wrapped up in blankets, eyes sealed shut in a deep slumber, completely oblivious to the photoshoot.
“Those are your parents.” Regect mumbled, voice gentler than it’s probably ever been.
Ze blinked at the photo, then at Regect. He returned his gaze to the folder. “Yeah,” he exhaled. “People say I look like my ma more.”
Regect didn't take its eyes off the photo. It didn't need to. “Yeah. You do.”
I hope so, Ze wanted to say.
The page was flipped again. This pocket had two pictures shoved in the same slot. Neither were glossy or proper like the ones from before, which was hard to tell with Ze barely moving his hand away from the images. He inched it just far enough for the majority of the photos to be visible.
The picture to the left was Ze. A portrait photo, probably taken off someone’s camera. It showed what looked like a row of soldiers in a line, all facing something, and in the middle stood Ze.
It didn't look like Ze, Regect thought.
He visibly grimaced. A heavy weight settling on his chest. Decidedly, he inched his thumb just over his face.
The other image showed Ze and a few people with guns in their hands, all in uniform. It was taken in a time where everyone was too busy to notice a camera, oblivious.
Regect spoke before it could stop itself. “What– You were in the military?”
Ze was awfully silent. “No, that’s bootcamp.”
He could hear a scoff from beside him, coming from no other than the entity. “Like that’s any different. You were in bootcamp.”
“Yes, I know that,” he gritted his teeth.
Regect realised it needed to take a different approach. “I meant– Was it your choice?”
Ze ducked his head even lower, hand on his forehead holding it up. A few moments pass without a singular word, like he was thinking.
When the words came, they came harsh.
“Was it my choice? Fuck, dude. I’d rather kill myself than to go again,” he laughed without humour. He held his thumb and index on either side of the top of his nose bridge.
The entity was silent. Ze noticed and let go of his face.
“My dad kinda like, forced me to go. Well– he didn't force me, but he kinda did. It’s hard to explain.” He fell silent. “Well, I do guess it was my choice. In a way.”
Ze lifted his head back up just high enough to see the folder. His expression was upsetting, in the way Regect couldn't stand looking at it for another second.
“Man, I was so fucking scared. My dad wanted to toughen me up; it’s stupid. But at the time, I just thought I could do it scared. I mean– I did, but I rather not have. That’s all.”
Regect hesitated, "Why do you keep it?"
The man was silent for what felt like minutes. "I don't know. I– uhm. I think it's just something close to me. It's stupid, and I fucking hate looking at it, but..."
Ze hadn't noticed how silent everything was until he stopped talking. He’d suddenly become hyper aware that Regect’s shoulder was against his, its skin radiating warmth, making Ze want to move impossibly closer–
His thoughts were cut short when he noticed two arms wrapped around him. Regect’s, he concluded, before going involuntarily stiff. It took him about five more seconds and the small shift of the hug leaving for him to reciprocate, chasing it back. Ze almost found it embarrassing how much he had wanted this.
Regect was ever so understanding at this moment. It let Ze rest his head against its shoulder, his skin warm and toughened. Ze’s gratefulness went unspoken, and Regect let it.
When the hug broke, Regect didn't waste a second.
“I’m sorry for you, dude. It– sounded harsh. I’m glad you made it out.” Regect said, voice impossibly gentler. Ze didn't know if he could stand listening to that voice any longer.
The man shut the folder and put it to the side, dismissing the final few pages.
Regect was expecting maybe a sudden snap, and a potential Get the fuck out now. But neither happened.
All that did was Ze scratching the side of his head and turning away from Regect, as if ashamed.
Next: a simple, “yeah. Thanks. You can go.”
Regect wanted to stay. Of course it didn't want to leave — but the atmosphere's shift, Ze’s sudden avoidance told it all it should do. It left the room without another word and retreated to its own room.
It’s room had always been cold, the type where the surroundings seemed more structured than lived in, as if everything was just apart of the architecture design. The only actual sign of life was the windowsill.
The windowsill was one of the only parts of its room that didn't look like it was collecting dust. It sat a little plant and a photoframe just in the corner, and Regect leaned on it too frequently for it to collect dust.
A sharp finger was raised, and it gently pressed against the singular allium in the flower pot. Regect had already watered it the morning prior, and the beautfiul magenta colour beamed against its skin.
In the picture frame was a landscape photo of a boy. Young, around ten, wearing full white which blended in with his hair. The only contrasting colours were his wrist, purple in the way the allium stood out from the rest of its room.
Regect looked from the allium to the photoframe to the window. Then did a double take. Then left its windowsill to sit on the edge of its bed.
In the distance, it could hear the faint clicking of a doorknob locking.
Maybe tonight, more stories hidden beneath photos would be told.