Woot! Finally able to finish this one! It was hard and gave me one witch of a headache to get through. But it was worf it :P
Heat pressed into the small of his back, radiating up his spine and out to the tips of his arms and legs. Small, firm paws pressed into the warm sun-drowned fur of his chest to knead and caress while thin lips whispered over his neck. A tongue darted out to lap at yet another strawberry patch.
Munkustrap smiled and stumbled against Mistoffelees' as he followed the gentle nipping at the base of his neck, the passionate pulling of his chest fur. The heat left his back but his body was humming with another kind of heat. "Let's go back to the den," hummed the sensitive crook beneath his jaw.
Slowly he began to nod but, "I start in a half hour—"
He was cut off with Mistoffelees' mouth crashing down onto his, the intoxicating sandpaper-rough flick of tongue chasing away every thought of having to… what did he have to do again? Eventually Mistoffelees parted. "It'll be fine," he purred, winding his long fingers into the fur at the base of Munkustrap's tail. "Come on, let's go."
Munkustrap needn't more coercion to press up into the tux and wind his arms around his little lover to follow him back to their den.
When they'd gotten inside Mistoffelees again threw himself onto Munkustrap and kissed him long and hard until he was practically drooling for more. Munkustrap moaned softly and gripped the slight tom's hips to pull them closer, deeper into the kiss. The paw on his back slid slowly down the length of his spine until a sticky clump of fur caught the traveling paw and yanked for freedom.
Then two things happened. First, when he took a step towards the bed Mistoffelees' body pushed back carefully, guiding him to the other side of the den where they kept their indoor lavatory. Second, something in the lavatory knocked against the steel drum 'tub'… and cursed. "What the— Mistoffelees, stay here."
"Why are you going to the lavatory?" Mistoffelees announced. It was just so convincing Munkustrap would have even bought the theatrical cough if he'd been hit over the head with an iron pipe not two minutes ago.
Ignoring the tux (who refused to follow him into the little room), Munkustrap grabbed a nearby torch and reached for the thick curtain covering the entrance. Strange, there was already light inside—
"NOW!" he looked up just in time to see Alonzo and Skimbleshanks soar across the tiny room, arms outstretched and determination in their battle cries. He'd ducked out of the way before they could crash into him, but now he had a perfect view of their dastardly plan: a bath.
"You bastards!"
Skimbleshanks squirmed beneath Alonzo for a grip on Munkustrap's leg. "It's for your own good!"
"You smell like a Pollicle's arse!" Alonzo piped, shoving to his feet with the railway cat right beside him.
Bewildered, and betrayed, Munkustrap tore his eyes from the hideous sight of the half filled tub. "I'm not getting in there," he scoffed. "I don't need a— NO!"
With another soaring leap Alonzo went for him, but again failed to catch Munkustrap and his rising panic, letting him skitter away before making a break for the den entrance. "Munk, stop!" Skimbleshanks hollered.
Munkustrap would not— could not!— listen for the life of him. He hated water; loathed the look, smell, feel of water in his fur and how long it would take his coat to dry even in the middle of summer. There was no way he'd give in to a bath without a fight…
"Stop!" someone barked, heavy paws pounding the floor after him. Just before he made it to the door, though, something connected with the backs of his thighs. With barely enough time to see the arms wrapping around his legs, Munkustrap was thrown to the ground.
Thrashing, kicking, and screaming, it was a miracle that Mistoffelees was not only strong enough to take him down but could also worm up onto his back before he had a chance to stand. "Misto, lemme go!" he bucked frantically for freedom as the other two began closing in.
"I'm doing this because I love you," Mistoffelees panted and slammed his shoulders onto their den floor. "You smell."
Good thing Misto isn't heavy, he thought as threw the tux off his back and heard the slight thing land hard on the floor beside him. "I'm working on it!"
Alonzo must have had a hayday on Skimble's scotch for the whatever-teenth time he'd tried to tackle Munkustrap again ended in the tabby squirming just out of his grasp. Skimbleshanks was not so uncoordinated, however, and easily pinned him to the ground much as Mistoffelees had before. Only Skimble was kind of heavy.
"Where's Tugger with that shampoo?!" the tom atop him hollered over his shoulder to Mistoffelees and Alonzo, both strewn out on the floor panting.
"He should be here any—"
Just then Tugger burst into the den, slamming the thin door open and nearly clocking both Munkustrap and Skimbleshanks in the side of the head. "They…" he gasped and sputtered, a small paper bag in his hand and Jenny glaring over his shoulder. "They only had Herbal Essences."
"At least it's the strongest smelling," Jenny added, crinkling her nose down at Munkustrap. "If that won't do the job, I don't know what we'll do."
Tugger reached into the bag and pulled out the pink, frilly looking bottle of shampoo. Munkustrap watched (and struggled to breathe) as Tugger eyed the thing warily and flipped the cap open to flood the room with wonderful scents of flowers, fruits, and everything inherently feminine and untomly. Tugger gagged.
"No!" Munkustrap roared. "I am not letting you put that gunk in my fur, you deranged lard-heads!"
Like stink on a Munkustrap, Jenny was on him in an instant with a stern "Watch your mouth."
"I WILL NOT WATCH MY MOUTH!"
"Maybe…" Mistoffelees began timidly, cupping his black paw over his nose and mouth and pulling it away every couple moments to inspect his palm. Oblivious to the split lip he'd unknowingly given his mate, Munkustrap raved and struggled harder, yelling at his abusers with more colour than Mistoffelees' rainbow ribbon. "Maybe we shouldn't do this: he seems a little freaked, and we don't even have the right shampoo."
"But they were all sold out of the cat stuff, Misto!" Tugger whined. "This was the absolute best I could do."
"The best you can do is let me go and get out of my den." Munkustrap growled to no one in particular. So no one listened.
Skimble and Alonzo, who'd decided it be best if he too perched atop Munkustrap's back, looked between Mistoffelees and Jenny and Tugger. "But he smells—"
"I don't smell!" That was it, he was done sitting there waiting for his bath like a pig to the slaughter; with a final go for freedom Munkustrap twisted and reared beneath the two toms and managed to uproot them just enough to slink away and clamber to his paws for the door.
Tugger recoiled and jumped out of the way as the tabby barreled towards the daylight laughing and cackling like a mad-cat. He'd once again just made it to the threshold but this time determined to make it through… even if it meant taking out the determined Jennyanydots that stepped right into his path.
Because he was a gentletom— and because Jenny would make his life a living hell— Munkustrap tried to twist to the side to avoid collision with the stumpy queen. He'd only caught a glimpse of her smug grin and the stony rock of her clenched fist before stars exploded from the side of his head and sent him careening to the ground, unconscious.
"He's so heavy. Why is he so heavy?"
Near his head Mistoffelees chuckled and rearranged the grip beneath his shoulders. Four sets of hands held him along his body, lifting his dead weight around like a sack of flour. "If it's too heavy for you, Tugger, we could always switch places."
"I'm not saying he's too heavy for me, just that he's fat."
A little too slowly Munkustrap drifted back to. "It's muscle weight," he heard himself murmur. His eyes finally fluttered open to see the four toms looming over him.
The sounds of water splashing quickly reminded him to be hysterical and he wasted no time in trying to get his two feet on the ground. "Hurry up!" Skimbleshanks hissed and the crowd of toms buckled in to sprint the last few feet to where Munkustrap spotted the tub.
"Please," Munkustrap begged, looking up with big doe eyes into his dear Mistoffelees' face. The split lip had stopped bleeding and had crusted over in a gruesome brownish-red streak. "Don't do this, love, I can change. Just give me time."
Mistoffelees' hard glare softened and he even managed a kind, albeit pitying, smile. He was so close to breaking, Munkustrap could tell. "Not a chance," the tux cooed just as the all-tom stretcher tipped and dropped him into a shallow metal tub of death.
"I'll give you anything you want!" he wailed and whirled to grab the nearest fleshy victim: Tugger.
"Piss off!" the maned tom yelped, uselessly bringing his paws up to dislodge the claws from his chest and mane. "I don't need a bloody bath, you daft tit!" But Munkustrap would not let go. Nope. His life depended on Tugger's shared cockamamie hatred for baths.
"If I'm going down," Munkustrap growled, anchoring his claws higher on his brother's body and ignoring the frustrated protests from Jenny and Mistoffelees as he slowly left the bathtub. "You're going down with me."
The terror in Tugger's eyes was inspiring and something glorious with the promise of salvation. Even the skin and bone beneath his claws shook and relented with the impending defeat. "Sorry Tugger."
Neither toms were able to turn in time to brace themselves against Mistoffelees before he shoved hard against Tugger's back sending them both face first into the tub.
Who knew a cat as thin and lanky as Tugger could instantly double in weight under water? Munkustrap knew, he was still learning in fact! Claws and limbs flailed on top of him as Tugger struggled to find leverage in the tiny basin; Munkustrap's head caught beneath his sopping, two-ton mane underwater.
Someone grabbed him by the thin scruff and yanked him to the surface just in time to assault his mouth with fruity shampoo as he gasped for breath. Tugger shot off of him and out of the tub in record time, shrieking and shoving past Alonzo as he high-tailed it out of the den.
Through the stinging shampoo tears and the tossing of his head beneath Jenny's claw-sheathed paws he just barely made out Mistoffelees' soap clad arms reaching for his belly while Skimbleshanks yanked each limb one-by-one out of its socket to embed the lather.
Hopeless. There was no stopping them now and he knew it. Even his mate, the once loyal Mistoffelees, was shoving him into his deep personal hell. Who was he to trust now? No one. He might as well give up on life.
With bitter, cornea-searing tears he sobbed long and hard. "Why do you hate me?"
"So dramatic," Jenny noted with an exacerbated snort. "Like his brother— what are you doing?" Delving into the water, she yanked him back up to the surface to get at the patch of strawberry stuck beneath his jaw. Foiled, it was then that Munkustrap realized now was not his time.
Eventually Munkustrap's will broke and his spirit fizzled out in the smoky haze of frilly fumes and various rinses; he became a very sad, very pitifully passive lump of drenched fur. The occasional tear ran down his cheek when a little shampoo got in his eye or something got tugged a little too harshly.
The hour passed in a blur.
"Will you forgive me?" Mistoffelees had later asked, not sounding at all remorseful as he rubbed a heavy towel over the shiny, kitten-soft fur. Looking smug and proud as ever.
Munkustrap hugged himself tight with a weak sigh. Forgive was such a strong word; to forgive Mistoffelees would mean giving him license to do it again… and that could never happen. No, he couldn't bring himself to forgive— at least not yet, Mistoffelees needed to know that this was a horrible, irreparable act of treason he couldn't just forgive away. If the split in the tux's lip wasn't warning enough (which it wasn't as Mistoffelees asked to keep the damn bottle of shampoo) then his silent, slightly obscure, week-long grudge should give him a hint.
"I don't know."