AN: "Electric Buzzing On Your Fingertips, I Can Feel The Static On Your Lips", title from Shivers by Rick Astley. The song that inspired this fic, incidentally. I just wanted to write smooching.

Sometimes your nemesis frustrates you. Sure, you've grown used to the traps, that part's fine. It's everything else. Even after all the tentative exploration, figuring out what it means to have this new relationship with your nemesis at all, he still can't so much as kiss you without prompting. Sitting on his bed, you lean back on your elbow and pat the mattress beside you.

He sits, hands clasped together, a fading bruise just visible over his collar. From thwarting or kissing, you're not sure. It doesn't matter, he's yours either way. "Okay, Perry the Platypus, what do you want to talk about?"

Talk?

Rising to your hindpaws, you swing a leg over him and grab his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed. He misunderstands. You're not here to talk, that's his job. No, you are a semi-aquatic egg-laying mammal of action. Pressing your mouth to his rough, bitten, human-warm lips, you cling to his thin frame, this man you've come to adore.

"This is sudden," he mumbles into your bill, his large hands settling around your shoulders. Barely a trap. "I don't mind but-"

Twisting your paws further into his shirt, you lean your full weight on him, tail lashing at the air behind you. No more talking. You could listen to him all day but right now you need him to listen as you tell him, with your body, how much you need him.

He needs you, too. Without you he wouldn't loosen up like this, tongue darting out to trace along your bill-

A shiver jolts down your spine and you pull back, panting. Thoughts buzz in your brain, tingling along your nerves, all focused on him. On Heinz, your nemesis.

Somehow, miraculously, speechless, he blinks, holding you tighter with trembling hands. "Where..." His lips part, just enough for his pink tongue to run over it. "Where did this come from, Perry the Platypus? It's like you think I'm attractive or something, which I'm not, I'm scientifically-"

Rolling your eyes, you unclench a paw and lift it to flick his nose. Of course he's attractive. Maybe not to humans, but you've never known them to have good taste anyway.

You used to wonder if maybe life would be easier for you as a human, to blend, accepted as one of them. Not any more. If being human means turning from this man in front of you, you want no part of it. Better to be here, as a platypus, with him.

To you, he's everything you could ever want in a mate. An equal, challenging you at every turn, driving you to fight your best, to earn your victory. A partner, always in step with you. An ally, when he needs to be, falling into place at your side like you were never enemies in the first place. Most importantly, he's your nemesis. The most important relationship in your life, the centre of it all, and you can't imagine a better nemesis than Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

Over your nemesisship you've found him to be a kindred spirit, out of place in the world of humans but too much of one to be comfortable as an animal. Equal and opposite. A sharp mind, to your honed muscles. Loudly emotional, to your quiet stoicism. Evil, to your Good.

His skin bears the marks of past battles sometimes won but mostly lost, his mind even more so, and still his blue eyes shine with hope for something better. Of course you want to be with this man.

You pull his collar down, fingers brushing over his neck, exposing the fading bruise for you and only you to see. The dark shape of your fist stands out on his pale skin and you let out a quiet growl, pressing your bill to it. He's yours. To fight, to kiss, it doesn't matter, as long as you can have him at all.

With a sharp hiss, he pulls away from the contact, hands tightening in your fur. "Ow, Perry the Platypus, you've already hurt me once today, I don't need you to repeat it."

Letting out a soft chirr of apology, you tip his head back and lick a stripe up his throat instead, filling your mouth with the taste of his sweat. That he lets you this close is forgiveness enough. Finishing just below his chin, you relish the feel of him arching under you, silent but for his ragged breathing.

Your mark only covers one side of his neck, you notice, not for the first time. Tracing fingertips down the pale skin of the other until he shivers, you watch his face.

Biting his lip, he tilts his head to allow you access. An invitation.

The scent of him dominates your senses as you lap at his bare skin, making his breath hitch with every light touch. Does he understand how much you want him? Holding him in place, you drag your tongue over his skin until he whines. More, you need more. You need him. Using your teeth as well, you nip and suck another mark onto him as he writhes, another claim for him to see in the mirror each morning. The last thing you want is for him to feel unwanted.

He digs his fingers into your shoulders, dragging you back so he can meet your eyes. "You," he whispers, breathlessly, "want something." An accusation. He knows you too well to need to ask.

And he's right, you do want something: him.

"I mean, you're very insistent today, more than usual, and you're looking at me like- Is this my fault?"

Yes, yes it is.

Turning his head away, he huffs. "You should tell me these things, Perry the Platypus, I can't read your mind-"

You shush him with two fingers pressed to his lips, holding them there while he quiets. This is you telling him. Then, making sure he's watching, you lift those same fingers to tap the end of your bill where it still tingles from his kiss.

"Oh," he breathes, cheeks reddening as he parses what you're trying to say. "You want- But I- Are you sure?"

Moving his hand to the back of your head, you nod.

He pulls you close, enough that you can feel his breath on your bill, then presses his forehead to yours and exhales. "I can't do it, Perry the Platypus, you're just so perfect with your cute little face, and I'm- I'm not, okay? Why did you choose me, huh? I'm not handsome like you, I'm not strong, I'm- Everyone always says I'm too needy and they're right-"

A flick on the ear cuts him off and you close your eyes, stroking his hair. Where did he get the idea you thought any of it was in any way a problem? Because you don't. Sure, he gets clingy sometimes, but you've heard enough backstories to know where it comes from.

"What was that for?" he whines, and you almost regret it. Almost. "Don't you look at me like that, it's true. I don't know how you don't see it."

You do see it, you just don't think it matters. He's your nemesis. That's all he needs to be.

Running his fingers through your backfur, sending a shiver down your spine, he swallows. "Of course I want to kiss you, who wouldn't, but... Am I even doing it right? I mean, with the whole beak thing you've got going on there, what's up with that, huh?"

All you can do is roll your eyes, because he's still not getting it. If you didn't enjoy his kisses, you wouldn't be asking for more. Simple as that.

Besides, the whole kissing thing was his idea in the first place. You'd brushed off his advances at first, apprehensive about your job, about your friendship, about not being human enough for him, until the day he'd found the courage to talk to you about it. In words. And he'd listened to your answer, hand in your paw. That, in the end, had been enough.

"If you insist," he mumbles now, sliding his hand back up to curl behind your head, "Perry the Bossypus." Before you can protest, he pulls your mouth to his.

Electricity sparks at the contact and you let out a small noise, eyes falling shut. Who needs to see when you have the shape of him laid out in front of you, when you know each beat of his heart as if it's your own? All you need is this man you adore.

His touch, and his kiss, soothes your yearning and at last he's kissing you softly, your mouths moving easily together. "Is this what you wanted?" he murmurs, lips brushing over your bill, and digs his fingers into your fur. "You're getting all droopy on me and that always means you're either exhausted or comfortable. It had better be the second thing, you know I hate it when you overwork yourself, tell me you're just comfortable."

Slumped into him, you nod, tucking your face into the crook of his neck where his odd human scent is stronger. Of course you are. This is exactly what you asked him for, the closeness and affection only he can give you.

In the end, it's not about kissing at all, not really. It's that you know he won't do anything to you if and when you let him. Trust is hard to come by in your line of work, and to find it with your nemesis, of all people, should have been impossible. And yet you do anyway.

"Yeah," he says eventually, stroking your back, "I love you too."

Love. That's a good word for this, for the way you shed tension like water at his touch, warm and human and gentle like he's afraid of hurting you. He never holds back when you thwart him, but here and now, when you're wrapped in his arms, he's almost reverent. You wouldn't have him any other way.

He rubs at your back and sighs. "I miss you sometimes, you know that? You always leave so quickly and I never know how to feel about it. Lonely, I guess. Like, I get it, you have places to be, but... Can you stay longer this time?"

How far he's come, that he can ask.

Curling your tail around his waist, you chirr softly, wishing you could make that promise. You hope it's enough that you want to.

"You can't, can you." The resignation in his voice hurts, especially since he's right. "Francis overworking you again?" When is he not? "Look at you, I know that face, you're exhausted. I'm going to talk to him, I can't have my nemesis showing up to fight like this. I-I mean, not right now," he says, pressing his lips to your head. "Not when you're here, so adorable with your little hat... I guess that's why you're so demanding today, huh? You wanted to get straight to the point? And by point I obviously mean, well, this."

You nod, pressing yourself closer. With how little time you get to yourself, why shouldn't you make the most of what you get to spend with him?

After all, you've missed him too.

AN: Hashtag give Perry a day off.