SCP WiPs that I'll never finish.

Icy release chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Gears sang with the rhythm he made while washing the dishes. The steady stream of water, his metronome, the click of plates, his percussion, and the respondent scratches and squeaks of the sponge his added little flare. Since he was alone, he had no need to worry over if someone, other than the cats, would overhear him. He hummed a little tune as he loaded the dishwasher up and cleaned his hands. He cleaned the counters and moved to the pantry, unsurprised to see that it was already fairly organized. Still, he looked through, seeing if anything was very old or had to be thrown out. He gathered a small pile of boxes and wrappers from various items when a box of tea caught his eye. When Gears picked it up, a shiver ran through him. He didn't understand why, but the box made him feel cold as if it carried something much worse than few tea packets. He replaced the box with a shiver, glancing back at it for a second before gathering the trash and leaving. Gears moved through the living room and his room with a vacuum and duster playing music as he worked and singing along. When done, he looked at his work, satisfied with himself, he moved to his own room, and then the guest room. He cleaned the bathrooms as thoroughly as he could, again, satisfied with his work. He looked around, now only one place to clean.

The last of the house rules rang in Gears' head. 'Don't go into my room without my permission. Period.'

It was a simple request, easy to follow and understandable, but now that he had fallen into a nice rhythm, Gears wanted to clean Ice's room. He hesitated at the door before going to text Ice.

'Iceberg, I finished cleaning the entire house, with the exception of your room. May I have permission to clean it?'

Gears was tense watching the three little dots on the messaging app fade in and out of visibility as Iceberg replied.

'Sure, u want chicken for dinner?'

Gears sighed a little, not fully sure what he was so scared about.

'Thank you, and yes, chicken sounds nice'

Gears tossed his phone on the couch and went in, looking around. The room was unusually messy for Ice's taste, but considering the eventful morning, Gears wasn't too surprised. He cleaned the bathroom, once again finding the strange tampon box, and chucked out a few empty cleaning supplies bottles. He moved into the bedroom, making the bed, vacuuming, and, of course, dusting. Gears was surprised by how dusty Ice's room was compared to the rest of the house. It was like he hadn't touched anything on his shelves in over a year.

'Well, good thing I'm cleaning then.'

He began humming again as he dusted, swiping away the grey grime from book spines and trinkets, making sure to replace everything properly. He cleaned Ice's bookshelf and dresser before moving over to the armoire. Gears swiped his arm over the top and was met with a cloud of dust and a small thud.

'Shit.'

He coughed waving the cloud from his face and looked down. A flat, white, rectangular box sat on the floor, its blue contents spilled onto the carpet like water. Gears scurried to pick it up and looked at the offending object. His face set aflame with blush. In his hand was a lacy, baby blue lingerie top.

Gears' mind sputtered. 'What on earth!? Why would he have this!?'

He tried to think up a reasonable explanation. The only idea that came to mind was that Iceberg himself wore the garment for his own pleasure.

His father's voice itched in his head. 'Oh Charles, you disgusting little boy, do you seriously believe that Iceberg, a much more respectable and sensible man than you could ever be, would wear women's garments like some kind of sinful vagrant? He enjoys closeness, of course, but you can't seriously think that he's some kind of fetishistic crossdressing homosexual. You're quite the moron to believe that someone more of a man than you could be that way.'