Zene Oneshots

Help Him (Possible Pt. 1?)

The Maid Café had closed early that day, and only three of the employees were still closing up shop. One was the owner of the Maid Café, a young woman named Aphmau, with the other two being men named Zane and Gene.

Now, Zane and Gene weren't friends, but they weren't rivals either. Yet they did lean more towards the rivalry, which Aphmau and the others had tried countless times to get them to reconsider. The reasons on why Zane hadn't forgiven Gene for everything in highschool were simple; Zane had a crush on Gene, Gene physically and verbally abused and harassed him, and Zane had always been jealous of Gene.

Gene was so aplomb and everything expected of a leader. He had a muscular and sturdy bodybuild that was way above average.. it was a wonder how he hadn't snapped Zane's fragile spine with a mere touch. Gene had a natural shine to his hair that reflected silk, and even felt like it too. His eyes were a deeper teal blue than the depths of the ocean, warm in the iris, but a frigid ice piercing core. There was a hypnotic trance mixed into the shades, and anyone could fall victim to it. He was a gangster, getting away with crimes and blackmailing people until they either joined his gang or did something terrible.

Zane, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. He was always putting himself down, with a fragile and weak body. His hair was the same black shade as the feathers of a raven, a bit fluffy and covering his right eye. His left eye was the same blue as the sky in the middle of the day, with a more frigid and ice cold shade at the bottom. His right eye was once the same, when he was younger, but then an incident had occurred that made it dull and white. There was nothing special to Zane's hair our either of his eyes, or even the fact that he had freckles dotting his nose and cheeks. He was weak, dependant, and naïve... the easy mouse for the cat. The perfect catch for the fisherman.

It was no surprise that they didn't get along.

Zane was the mouse, Gene was the cat. Zane was the catch, Gene was the fisherman. Zane was the slave, Gene was the slave owner.

"Zane, has anyone ever told you what a nice butt you have?" Gene suddenly asked, stepping up beside Zane to put the recently cleaned dishes in the cabinets.

"No..." Zane answered in embarrassment, huffing a bit as he scrubbed the kitchen knife with the washcloth.

"Good, because it's flatter than the sky." He frowned with a growl, sneering a bit.

"The sky has no surfaces..." He informed with a know it all tone, only to hear Gene laugh.

"Trust me Zane. I know."

Zane couldn't help but stare at the older and stronger male that loomed over him, no longer paying attention to the scrubbing of the kitchen knife.

Gene noticed this, and reached out one hand slowly to keep the paler from seeing. He gave him one of the halfhearted and deceiving smiles of a prick, before grabbing onto the small wrist.

"G-Gene!?" Zane squeaked in surprise, dropping the kitchen knife into the sink with the washcloth.

Gene didn't reply, instead frowning as he lifted up Zane's pale wrist to inspect it closer. He could tell from the bruise on one side that it was fractured, and had gotten worse from Zane using it. His frown strengthened when he saw the small cut on Zane's index finger, which was starting to bleed.

"Aw... look.. you cut yourself." Gene purred in a slick and taunting voice, grabbing an unused washcloth to cover his index finger.

"L-Let go..." Zane begged with a stutter, trying to pull his arm away.

"How did you fracture your wrist?" The older male questioned with a sudden concern, turning Zane's wrist so that they could both see the wound.

"U-Uh...." The raven haired male stuttered again, unsure on what to tell the other.