HAT: So... I decided to do this because it came to mind, you should know this by now... well... that and the fact that I went to sleep at, like, 2 in the morning last night and had to wake up at 8 this morning to get ready to go to church and get to Sunday School on time (and yes, no matter how old you are, you can still go to Sunday School). So, yeah, I'm tired and might go to sleep early, might not.
"Munkustrap! Tell me you're seeing what I'm seeing!" begs a certain Maine Coon.
The silver tabby gives his older brother a weird look. "What're you talking about."
The gloved paw grabs his jaw and turns it, putting his face right next to his brother's to make sure that he's directing it right. "That!"
Silver and gold eyes look at the most unusual sight in the world. Am orange tom with brown and dark orange stripes, a long brown tail, and glass-green eyes while a vest hangs limply on his shoulders, unbuttoned walks with a large black and white tom with black on his upper lip to look like a mustache on his white face wearing spats and carrying a spoon and laughing. These cares are Skimbleshanks and Bustopher Jones. Now, an outsider wouldn't find this strange like those in the junkyard do. Skimbleshanks and Bustopher Jones hate one another because of the object of their affections (though their type of affections are very different), Jennyanydots. As an overprotective brother, Skimbleshanks automatically hates any and all suitors for his younger sister and the one that has Jenny swooning is Bustopher, who does show an interest in her.
"What?" murmurs the Protector.
"That's what I said," the heart breaker replies.
"Tugger, do you know what they're talking about?"
"Uh-uh," replies the older brother as he shakes his head.
Skimbleshanks smirks as he realizes the attention that he and the tom next to him are getting. "They're in shock."
Bustopher Jones chuckles. "Yes, but what could possibly be the cause?" he playfully asks.
A chuckle. "I don't know... perhaps us?"
"No, I don't think so," the white faced aristocat says with a smirk.
Skimble, to further throw off those around them, throws an arm over the fat cat's shoulder and laughs. "They can't think we always hated each other? Huh?"
"I don't know, we've had a lot of animosity for quite a while."
Skimble scoffs. "Oh, come on, it hasn't been that long... just a decade or two," he grumbles after a thought.
The rotund tom bursts into a fit of laughter at his friend's expense, putting an arm around the other tom's waist to hold himself upright otherwise he'd end up rolling on the floor laughing for who knows how long at his own expense as well. They're bent over at the waist, doubled over in laughter at many of the things that they've done over the years and reminisce over the pranks that they've pulled on one another and laughing at their own expense looking back on it.
"Are they... a couple?" asks Munkustrap, noting how the marmalade tom put his arm over the other tom's shoulder and the tux wrapping his arm around the other's waist.
Tugger shakes his head. "No," he shakes his head before looking closer and how close their faces are and the way they laugh and blush. "Well... maybe..."
"But how?"
"The better question is when?" Tugger interjects.
Their younger brother comes over and the two immediately grab him. "Lemme go!" When they do as asked, he makes his fur lie down. "Why do you two always gotta pick on me?"
"That doesn't matter right now," Munkustrap mutters with a wave of his paw, dismissing the question. "We gotta ask you something."
Dark eyes fill with wary curiosity. "What?"
"Has your uncle been... seeing anyone?"
"Um... I dunno, I haven't been into his love life like that," he shrugs.
Munkustrap frowns. "Okay, off you go."
"But why're you-" he's shut up as they shove him off.
"Okay, so Misto doesn't know," Tugger mutters.
The marmalade tom trips over a can that's kicked under his feet by his nephew, Tumblebrutus, and falls on his back, his arm being around Bustopher's neck dragging him down partially and the fat tom lands on top of the slimmer one. All the air in Skimbleshanks' lungs is released and he can feel his bones being crushed.
"Sorry," chuckles the black and white cat nervously, embarrassed blush on his face.
"Just get off," begs the squished cat, face red with the lack of air and soon will turn blue under the fur to cause a purplish tint to show, but luckily Bustopher gets off so this doesn't happen. The rich tom helps up his friend and rubs his back as the brown tailed tom tries to get his breathing back to normal. "Thanks..."
"No problem... you gonna be alright?"
They continue walking. "If we ever fall like that, I'm topping next time."
"Fine," sighs the fat tom.
"You know, you're really heavy," grunts the orange tabby.
The bi-colored tom rolls his dark eyes. "No, I didn't know," he replies sarcastically.
Skimble rubs his chest and groans. "All twenty-five pounds just dropped on me..."
"Oh, you'll live!"
"Easy for you to say! I was the friggin' cushion for your landing!"
"You're alive now aren't you?"
"I suppose..."
"They're coming this way," hisses Tugger, elbowing his brother in the ribs.
Munkustrap glares at his brother. "Yeah, I can see them, you didn't have to do that," he hisses back as Bustopher falls on top of Skimble, both of them blushing like mad. "Ouch!"
Sympathetic amber eyes watch. "I'd hate to be him..."
The cat in spats helps up the vested cat and rubs his bath to ease his breathing. As this continues to the point of which the cat of the railway train can breathe two of Old Deuteronomy's sons speak and debate over these actions.
"Okay, so they were both blushing when they were really close after that fall," Tugger mutters.
"And rubbing Skimble's back looks to be affectionate," Munkstrap adds before quickly shutting up as the pair continue walking.
"... I'm topping next time," Skimble huffs, causing silver and gold eyes to flicker to each other and then back to the couple.
"Fine," Bustopher sighs.
The two continue out of earshot, but both can see Skimble rubbing his chest and grumbling something that they don't know.
"Okay, now I'm convinced," Munkustrap mutters.
"Yeah... Bustopher Jones and Skimbleshanks are together," Tugger says.
"Have you noticed everyone looking at us odd?" Bustopher asks.
Glass-green eyes give him a look. "Of course I have. We've been stared at all day."
"No... this time's different..."
Skimble looks around and his eyebrows come together. "Like they know something we don't," grumbles the marmalade tom. "I don't know how I feel about that."
"I'm feeling curious."
"You know what curiosity did... but let's go, I know the perfect cat to give me all the information," Skimble says, getting up and patting his friend's shoulder. "Come on."
"Who is it?" the plump cat asks.
"You'll see," replies the lean tom as he continues on his way to the cat he wants to talk to. "Etcetera, sweetheart! Come here."
The silvery white kitten comes over. "Yes, Uncle Skimble?"
"What does everyone know?"
"That you and him are going out," his niece says with a smile.
Both pale. "What?"
"Yeah, you're together... aren't you?" she asks in confusion.
"No!" they say together, their eyes wide.
"Oh... well, Munkustrap and Tugger got it wrong, then," she murmurs. "I thought you would've made a cute couple."
The two of them groan and immediately search for the two toms. When spotting them Skimble darts in their direction and picks the both of them up by their scruffs with ease, glass-green eyes flickering between the brothers. Bustopher stands before them with his arms crossed while the two share a look, wondering if it was a terrible decision to let the relationship of the two be known to the junkyard. Seems like it now.
"So, lads... what made you think it was okay to tell everyone that Bustopher and I were in a romantic relationship?"
"W-well, it looks like you were," Tugger stutters.
"A-and I-I mean y-you would've wanted to break it to us gently," Munkustrap adds.
The vested tom and the tom in spats share a look before murmuring profuse apologies. Skimble drops the maned tom and the silver tabby, rolling his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Obviously his patience with idiocy is low at the moment so that leaves Bustopher to speak for the both of them.
"We're merely friends," the tom says, putting his spoon on his shoulder. "You stupid tom-kits, jumping to conclusions."
"I'll say," grumbles the Scottish tom as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb, forefinger, and middle finger. "Next time, just ask us."
"O-okay," stutter the two.
"Now get outta here," growls the railway cat, long brown tail lashing in irritation.
As the two scramble away the black and white tux's tail lashes angrily. "I swear, next time they decide to do something like that, I'll get a spork and shove it up their tails!"
A chuckle. "And just wait until I get my claws on them."
The two laugh about plans to destroy the two should they decide to do that again, deciding that this is laughable... until Skimble almost gets jumped by three very angry queens, but luckily the object of their affections saves his life from Jellylorum, Jennyanydots, and Bombalurina. Let's just say today's been an interesting day.
HAT: *giggles* I got bored and just... poof. You should learn to be afraid of boredom from me because it results in many, many things. You see what can happen.
Bustopher: Clearly. I remember that story that you made where I had a crush on Skimble.
HAT: *shrugs* It was either sleep deprivation high, sugar high, or boredom... sorry?
Bustopher: *rolls eyes* Review.
HAT: So... steak?
Bustopher: *shrugs and holds out arm* Why not?
HAT: *squeals* YAY! *hooks arm with his and drags him to get steak*