Kissing, Scapegrace decided, was nice. Especially because it shut Thrasher up. Although it helped that even his lips were perfect in that stupidly perfect, stupidly hot body of his. It was easier to give in to temptation rather than keep denying it.
Not that they'd done anything particularly sexy in these sexy bodies. Not yet, anyway. That would probably come later, when Scapegrace was more comfortable in his womanly body. If it ever came at all. But surely it would- sex was a normal part of a relationship, wasn't it? He'd have to ask someone about it. Later, though, not now. Right now he was too busy enjoying this kissing.
Thrasher moved his head to kiss along Scapegrace's neck, making the woman shiver even though it wasn't cold. He made some kind of noise (which he would fervently deny out of existence later), and then there was a giggle. The perfect bubble that was just them, containing all their goopy, mushy, romantic feelings, burst and Scapegrace turned to face the bubble-popper before he could that stupid metaphor too far.
"Clarabelle!" he screamed, clutching the blanket to his chest even though both he and Thrasher were fully clothed beneath the bedclothes.
"Sorry, Scapey," she giggled, twisting a strand of her currently bubblegum-pink hair around her finger. "I just came in to see what you two were doing in here and you looked so cute that I had to stay."
"Damn it, Clarabelle, when two adults who like each other are in a bedroom together, you don't come in and watch!" Scapegrace could feel his cheeks burning.
"But master, we weren't-" Thrasher started, but Scapegrace cut him off.
"That doesn't matter," he said. "We had the door shut, didn't we?"
"The blanket fell down," said Clarabelle simply. "I came to pick it up, I remember now."
"And then you got distracted," said Scapegrace, dragging his hands down his face. "We really need to get some doors in here." They'd had doors before Clarabelle had accidentally locked herself in every room.
"I should probably get back to cooking now," said Clarabelle, and walked off. "You two look sooo cute, by the way."
"Shut up," Scapegrace muttered, even though his cheeks matched his fiery red hair and he didn't mind that at all.
"Master? I can smell smoke," said Thrasher. Now that he mentioned it, the scent of smoke was growing stronger. Scapegrace had thought it was just the smell of his cheeks burning.
Sighing, he got out of bed, tripped on the tangled blankets, then went to deal with whatever disaster Clarabelle had managed to create in the kitchen.
