Reggie didn't always prescribe to the "normal male responses" because he was more emotionally evolved than that, thank you very much. But he wasn't immune to having his mind in the gutter and thinking any mention of blue balls was hilarious. "Heh. Only one. Not plural," he chuckled before quickly changing subjects. "Why do people keep calling dibs on colors? That Clint guy wants all things purple all the time. And, like, red is my favorite color, but I'm not gonna pick a ball just 'cause it's red. I have to like the vi--"
His chatter was cut short by the arm to his stomach. By not paying full attention to his surroundings, Reggie clotheslined himself on Luke's outstretched arm, and he doubled-over to catch his breath. "I need those for singing," he wheezed. Blindly reaching for Luke to use him to haul himself upright, Reggie almost biffed it when he grabbed empty air.
Stumbling forward, he finally looked around and took in his surroundings. The short one was hugging someone shorter. "What did I miss?"