Habits // Indigo/Adam ~clue~

Indigo lay on one of the beds in his assigned room in his boxers and a pair of clean black dress socks, staring at the ceiling. The clothes he'd fallen into the fountain with were drying on the balcony, but he hadn't bothered to put a new outfit on yet; dinner wasn't for a few hours and he was thinking about the important things in life.

Things like who his roommate would be, how long the zipper on his dress pants had been down without him noticing, what Malcolm Nox expected of them, and of course, that time when he was fourteen and he’d embarrassed himself in the district square. Funny, the things that haunt you when you’re alone with your thoughts.

In his hands, he held contraband that he’d smuggled into the mansion in his shoe. The house was big enough that he was sure he could find somewhere to smoke it without being too obvious, but there was still the issue of the smell. 

He wasn’t so much worried that anyone would rat him out so much as want him to share, and that was the problem, because he really didn’t have a whole lot to spare.

The door opened and Indigo hurriedly shoved the little baggie into the small space between the headboard and the mattress, then turned around with a look on his face reminiscent of a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“So, you’re my roommate! Welcome, welcome!” he sputtered, bounding up off the bed and grabbing his new roomie’s hand, vigorously shaking it. “Just a few ground rules! I am a night owl, so expect my lamp to be on at odd hours.”

Granted, he didn’t expect to spending a whole lot of time in his room, there were so many amenities in the mansion to use; the library stood out in particular. 

Not to be condescending or anything, but he doubted that very many of his fellow interns were the reading type, and if that was indeed the case, it would be a wonderful sanctuary in the months to come. Letting go of the drug dealer’s hand he bent his arms so that his hands were level with shoulders.

“If you need alone time with a girl;” he continued as he looked over the other guy’s outfit and took a deep whiff of his cologne. “If you need alone time with a boy,” he amended, “Hang a sock on the door, I’ll find a way to amuse myself until said sock is gone.”

He looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

“But no sex in my bed please.”

One friendly pat on the shoulder later, Indigo had spun on his heel and flopped backwards onto his mattress, something that seemed cool in theory, but in practice resulted in him smacking his head on the wall.

“Indigo Gerber,” he grunted in annoyance. “I know we know each other, but I also know we’ve never given names when conducting…business.”

A moment later he sat back up and looked at him with raised eyebrows, his voice dripping with a hungry desire as he smoothed down his hair with a hand. “Hypothetically speaking, if I needed a pick me up, you wouldn’t happen to have brought some of your stock along…?“