The room is damp. It reeks of earth and disinfectant, and the soundscape is dominated by the harsh scrubbing of an oversized brush. It is accompanied by the grumbling of an exasperated merb, plus the sloshing of filthy tub water, in a tub, which is occupied by a slightly less filthy marksman.
"You were only off the ship for twenty minutes. How could you have gotten this covered in Doom Ooze in twenty minutes?"
"That..." Finn turns around with a radiant smile on his face, "is a story I'd like to tell!"
Wind rushes through his hair. His bike hums beneath him. They've just touched down on the terra, and the five of them—Finn, Piper, Junko, Aerrow, and Radarr—have sped out of the Condor's landing bay onto uneven turf. It's nothing Finn can't handle. After all, he is an amazing pilot, and an even more amazing gunner. He is also handsome, and brave, and—
"Finn."
Finn turns around to see Stork looking acutely unimpressed.
"I'm the Domo, Stork! Of course I'd be all those things! Or did you... forget?" Finn waggles his eyebrows playfully.
"Oh, I'm aware..." Stork says dryly. Memories of pirates and peril dance through his mind. That was a weekend he fears he'll never forget. Ever.
To his credit, Finn looks slightly sheepish as he continues,
The Raptors cackle as they ride away, bikes laden with stolen crystals. Piper's eyes nearly bug out of her skull when one particularly volatile one almost tips off the side. Luckily, Finn is there to save the day! He locks the steering, gets a mark on Repton's tires, stands up on his bike to shoot, and—
—promptly, proceeds to fall face-first into a small lake of clumpy mud. His bike continues on without him. Godspeed.
He hears the sounds of the others crashing—or are those the Raptors crashing?—in the distance, but his face is full of muck so he can't be sure. It smells absolutely awful, like someone had taken incense, left it to rot in the sun for a week, mashed it with the dankest smelliest mushrooms in existence, and let that rot in the sun for a week. It is currently filling up his nose, and he tries his best to dislodge it.
Never one to give up when the going's rough (or dirty, or sticky, or otherwise uncomfortable), Finn wipes what he can, tracks down his bike, and hops on in pursuit of the others.
It's not long before he's back on the Condor, with the rest of the team and the rest of the crystals in tow. The Raptors got away, but it doesn't matter, because Piper's eyes shine like the sun when she takes inventory of her crystal stores: now fully stocked. Finn grabs a rag and starts toweling himself off.
"...and you were there for the rest!"
"I was." Stork sighs.
Stork walks in and lets out a yelp for the ages. The rest of the squadron, who until that point had been stashing their bikes and chatting, also yelp, though to a much lesser degree. He'd come in to check on the airlock, but he hadn't been expecting this. Oh god.
"Wow ok..." begins the Merb, "So, I'm going to put this lightly, but..." he trails off, all eyes on him as he approaches Finn with caution and sniffs him, ears twitching. "By the smell of things, I think it's safe to assume that Finn is covered in... DOOM OOZE!"
"That doesn't sound safe." Piper pipes up.
"...which is deadly if left on flesh for an extended period of time... unless your skin can withstand the liquefying forces of the horrible Doom Ivy! Native to Terra Gruesomus, it only takes a little to kill you, and..."
"Oh, um." Aerrow is concerned—
"Stork!" Piper interjects, jerking her head pointedly at the guck-covered boy in question, who is currently trying to chip the drying mud from his skin like the shell off a skynut.
"From the look of that mud, I'd say he's got around... two minutes... give or take, before the ... ahem, deadly, flesh-melting chemicals kick in."
Finn's eyes bulge. His scratching becomes frantic. "I don't want to die! I'm too young! ...and beautiful!"
"You're not going to die, it's gonna be okay!" Piper soothes, looking to Stork with wide brown eyes. "Isn't it?"
Stork gazes thoughtfully into the distance. Aerrow stares at him, then at Piper, then at Finn—who appears to be having some kind of stroke—then finally at Stork again. "Stork, tell me you're prepared for this."
The helmsman is already reaching for his doom chests. Junko is crying. Finn is scratching and keening. Piper is trying to calm him down without actually touching him.
Stork's dark eyes flash. "I was born prepared."
About five minutes into the following silence, Finn begins to grow bored. Yawning, he informs Stork of his predicament.
"You're bored?" Stork says with a tilt of his chin, "If I weren't doing this you'd be—well, you'd be dead!"
Finn considers this. "Well I'm dying of boredom! Check, and, mate!"
Stork rolls his eyes and carries on cleaning him. He is not at all prepared for Finn's hands when they clamp onto him, plucking him from his seat on the side of the tub and depositing him into Finn's lap. Grimy water sloshes out the sides of the basin from the added mass, schlopping messily onto the floor.
"You—! This is disgusting!" Stork yelps, raising his hands above his head, "The mud in this water could cause the both of us to… to… "
Finn doesn't let him finish that sentence, choosing instead to grip the sides of Stork's face with his wet hands and press his mouth against Stork's in a firm, yet chaste kiss. When they part, Stork stares at him almost owlishly. Finn's face settles into a goofy grin. Stork attempts to retain a straight face. He wants to be angry with Finn for getting them both into this mess. He wants to scream. What, he wonders, could possibly be considered funny about this situation?
Stork glances at Finn's jubilant smile and groans. "You're lucky you're cute."
...and mostly clean already...
With that, he leans in and catches Finn in a series of passionate kisses.
"Do you think Finn's clean yet?" Junko snuffles. Whenever he starts crying, he just can't seem to stop. Not until his abused ducts think it's time, at least. "I need to use the bathroom, too!"
Aerrow shrugs. The both of them are walking down the corridor towards said bathroom as they speak. "I don't know, Junko. If he isn't, I don't want to interrupt Stork. You heard what'll happen if Finn doesn't get all that gunk off his skin."
"Y-yeah..." Junko says, trying not to let the tears well up again. Finn's not even in any real danger at this point, and yet...
"Hey." Aerrow slides his eyes up to study Junko's face. It's still puffy. Junko's the first Wallop Aerrow has ever known, and while he may not be at all like his manly brethren, he still holds a special place in the squadron's hearts. Aerrow doesn't like seeing him cry. It's his duty as a skyknight, as a friend, to make sure he's all right. He wraps an arm around the larger boy, slowing their walk to a stop.
Junko peers down at Aerrow like he's never seen him before.
"It's definitely going to be okay, Junk. Trust me." Aerrow hopes his eyes inspire confidence like he's willing them to.
"Okay..." Junko offers.
"I mean it." Aerrow says firmly. "If anyone is on top of this, it's Stork."
Junko's dark eyes shine. "Well, if you're sure..."
"I am, Junk! Let's go see how they're doing in there."
They turn down the hall leading to the bathroom, Aerrow's arm never leaving Junko's side even as they approach the door. He learns promptly upon opening it that the situation is not the only thing Stork's on top of at the moment. He also, promptly, leaves.
If Finn and Stork sport minor burns later in the afternoon from their Doom-Ooze-bath, no one has anything to say about it.