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He doesn't know when this new routine with the damn brat started. He would still chase him, fail, and return home to plan his next idea as always. But now, the brat would follow him. Inviting himself in the place as if he owned it. He blames it on Bugs. Bastard gave his spare key to him when he was sick, allowing the damn brat to come in even if Wile tried to lock him out.
He eventually gave up trying to stop the annoying runner from entering his home. It took more energy and time from his planning in trying to keep him out anyways. As long as the brat didn’t touch anything of his he didn’t care.
Which leads to now.
Him sketching out his next plan and behind him, Roy humming a tune. He kept glancing behind him to make sure Roy wasn’t looking his way. He couldn’t have the athlete knowing his next plan. He was content to see Roy keeping his promise of having his back turn on him. He turned his eyes back to his blueprint. Maybe if he-
“Wileeeeeee,” Roy whined, as he kicked his feet. “I’m boredddddddddd.”
The tip of his pencil chipped.
>Then leave.< He told him, before realizing Roy couldn’t see.
He sighed, before flipping the paper over to the back, and grabbing the other’s attention with a snap of his finger. He made sure Roy could see his hands, before signing the message once again. He got a pout in return.
“I don’t wanna,” he puffed up his cheeks.
Damn brat-
>It’s either that, or you can sit there.<
“That’s boring though Wile!”
>Not my problem-<
“Oh, I know!” Roy sprung up. “Let’s ask each other questions!”
What was this? Ice breakers for high schoolers?
>No-<
“I’ll go first!” Roy stated. “Do you like guys?”
What kinda first question was that!?
>That’s none of your business!< He flushed, stomping his feet.
“Come on Wile!” Roy pleaded. “Pleaseeeeeee.”
>You’re not going to stop until I answer, are you?< Wile exasperated.
“Nope!” before counting his whining. “Please, please, please, please, please, please-”
It was cut off by a series of snaps.
>Alright! If it gets you to cease your whining!< He huffed. >Yes. I do like guys.<
“What type of guy?”
>You’re not getting that information!<
“Aw, don’t be like that! I’ll tell you mine!” Beau offered. “I like them a little scraggly. Oh! And they have to be smart! Like, genius level smart. They have to know how to build, like, rockets.”
Wile snorted.
>Good luck finding a guy that smart who likes hanging out with you.<
“You’re a guy who’s that smart and likes to hang out with me,” Roy pointed out with a smirk.
Why that little-
>That’s different.< He gritted his teeth. >I chase you. I don’t hangout with you.<
“Hmm, close enough,” Roy shrugged, still wearing that stupid smirk.
>You’re not even my type.< He scoffed, looking away.
There. Check and mate. Roy wasn’t his type, so therefore he could never-
“Oh, is that so?”
Wile he turned his head back to Roy at the shift in tone. The athlete’s usual smile no longer there. Instead it was replaced with a cold, hard glare. Wile felt a shiver run down his spine, as the other leaned forward in his chair.
“Then tell me Wile, what is your type?”
Wile felt his mouth dry as he signed.
>Someone that isn’t you!<
Roy laughed at the answer.
“You’re lying!” He called him out.
>No I’m not!<
“Really? Then what kinda things do you look for in someone you might like?” Roy challenges, as he continues to laugh.
Wile said the first thing he could think of.
>Someone like Bugs.< He answered, feeling his face heat up.
He closed his eyes as he finished singing Bugs’ name. He hoped, for the first time ever, that one of his inventions could decide to blow up in his face. He felt guilty for using his childhood friend as a copout answer for something as childish as what type of guy he was into. He shouldn’t have stood his ground on that he didn’t have a type.
The laughter stopped though. Which seemed more concerning if it had continued. Wile reopened to see Roy still. A blank look on his face, as if he was processing what Wile had just signed. Once he noticed Wile looking at him, he gave him a smile. Not his normal sunny one, or the cruel one from when he was laughing. Just a simple, plain, almost empty smile…
“Well, I guess that makes sense,” Roy shrugged off, breaking the silence. “After all, you know each other for years.”
He doesn't know what, but something about the tone of voice he used made Wile flinched. Roy either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it, as he got up and stretched his arms out. He looked at his fitness watch as he looked back up to Wile.
“Would you look at the time!” He exclaimed. “I got to head out for my evening run!”
Of course he ran in the evenings…
“Take care Wile!”
He blinked, and the chair that Roy was using was now empty. In the distance he heard the slightest click of a door closing and a key locking it. He turned his head towards the door, to back to the chair.
What just happened?