Miguel's brain heard the click of the bathroom door opening, but his brain didn't quite register what the noise was...
At least not until there was a louder bang as the bathroom door was flung open, followed by a cry of war so off-pitch it would likely give a man nightmares to hear it.
Miguel turned his body slightly, surprise apparent, but Kaz had the advantage of the ambush. The pair went down in an embarassingly unmasculine heap on the bed.
"¡Dios mío!" Miguel cried, as though faced with the Devil himself. He extended his arms, hands pushing against the other man's bare shoulders, trying desperately to keep him at bay. "/I'm housekeeping!/" He said it in Spanish, repeating himself a few times before realizing this man probably didn't understand Spanish. A mild panic set in as his mind went blank. The word was simply gone from his mind. How many times a day did he say it? It had become so automatic...
This crazy man was going to kill him because he couldn't remember how to say housekeeping!
"/Stop/!" he begged, letting go of the crazy man with one hand to point to the logo on his shirt. "/I'm cleaning!/" How many drugs was this man on? Quite suddenly, the word popped into his head...