"Ike."
It wasn't a greeting as much as it was an accusation of sorts. Ike gave an explanation, or would have, if it weren't for the dirt (or soil, was it called?) that was smeared over his face, and a bit too close to his mouth for much comfort.
He'd seen what had been crawling around outside, and felt quite averse to letting any of those things get into his mouth.
"I-"
"Ike, you're tracking dirt all over the kitchen," Soren huffed. "Get back outside."
They both ended up on the front patio with a garden hose, a bottle of shampoo, and a hefty pile of what was a hodge-podge of broken pottery, and plants that looked as though they'd been through a tornado.
Or Ike's supervision, because it was the same thing, really.
"Take off your-" Soren stared at the grimy mess on Ike's hands. "You didn't use gloves?"
"They didn't work."
"How did they not- you used winter gloves?"
Ike shrugged. "Gloves are gloves. They don't work."
Soren sighed and walked to the back of the house to turn the house on. On the way, he stepped in something wet.
"-Are you bleeding?"
"My ear."
Soren handed the hose over to Ike so that he could wash his hands, and headed back into the house to get some disinfectant.
The blue-haired flower-killer watched as Soren began cleaning his face with a washcloth, and swabbed the cuts on his face with disinfectant. He could hear faint mutterings of "Ike, you're an idiot" and what sounded like "'tevenputabandageonthisthing" released in one breath and also a lot of "Why were you even trying to plant flowers anyway."
"I was gardening," Ike answered seriously.
"Well yes," Soren huffed. "I see that."
Ike frowned thoughtfully as his friend began scrubbing at his hair with shampoo (it was Soren's, that of which he was sure).
Soren eyed him with a level look that he used when he was trying to be patient (or as patient as he felt that he needed to be, anyway).
"Not when you just moved into a house," Soren began lecturing, "and all of the furniture isn't even in yet."
Ike opened his mouth to retort, but Soren continued.
"Not when you don't even know what you're doing," his voice was strained as he swept dirt off the back of Ike's neck. "Not when you don't have the proper equipment…"
He was kissed softly on the forehead.
"And definitely not when I'm not there to help you."