"Damn Michael, breaking the competition's nose? That's pretty low," he teased. Michael's hands flew to his mouth as he realized what he had done. He ran to Kaz's side, storm-colored eyes wide with worry.

"Oh shit, oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!" he stammered quickly, hands flying to Kaz's cheeks, using them to tilt his head towards him as he tried to see his covered nose. His cousin smiled up at him, laughing a little.

"Don't worry Mikey, I'm fine. And damn, censor yourself. You're like...12," he joked, rubbing a little at his nose before setting his hands in his lap again. It stung a little, but it wasn't like he had broken his nose or anything. His cousin frowned at him, falling back onto his beanbag before flipping Kaz off.

"I'm almost 14, I could yell 'fuck the police' out the window and nobody would care," he huffed, crossing his arms exaggeratedly. Kaz chuckled, setting his controller to the side.

"Almost being the key word there, ninja turtle," he said, cracking a grin at the nickname. Michael scowled at him, his hair falling into his eye again.

"Call me ninja turtle again and I'll aim for your glasses next time," he warned, though there was no real bite to his words. Kaz grinned, holding a hand to his forehead and gasping theatrically.

"Gasp! You wouldn't do such a thing, not to my precious glasses!" he giggled, faking an expression of fear. Michael's scowl just deepened.

"Try me bitch, I've got a paintball gun in the garage," he warned, but he couldn't stay serious for long as his frown quickly turned to a wide smile. Kaz opened his mouth to respond, but a voice from upstairs cut him off before he could speak.

"Michael, Kaz, lunch is almost ready!" Mrs. Grey called from upstairs. Kaz groaned, running a hand through his tangle of curly red hair.

"Hold on Mrs. Grey, gotta save our game!" he called. Michael tilted his head questioningly.

"But Smash Bros doesn't need to be saved..?" Michael asked slowly. His eyes suddenly widened in realization, and his look of confusion fell to one more serious. "Oh. You're gonna try and do the thing, aren't you?" he asked quietly. Kaz nodded, putting a finger to his lips as he set his controller down on the dull brown floorboards.

"Pretend you're saving the game, then when I say 'Oh, forgot to save the game,' you come upstairs," he responded quietly, getting to his feet gingerly. The offending appendages ached from sitting cross-legged on the bean bag for so long. Kaz took a deep breath, dull grey eyes fixating on the heartbeat of his uncle upstairs. He began to pad quietly up the dark, freshly waxed mahogany of the stairs up, stopping just before the door to the large expanse of the sterile-white kitchen . He had made sure to crack it slightly when he had first walked into the game room with Michael, and he stood carefully behind it as he watched the outline of his aunt and uncle a few feet away.