[ ✸ ] SPLISH SPLASH I WAS TAKING A BATH.

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Crash landing into their den at the ripe time of 3AM (not that he could tell time or even knew what it entirely was) Flynnigan rolled upon the floor like butter to hot toast. Yipping and winning, leaving the comfort of their room to run up and down the hallways, the male was irritated. More specifically, his skin. He'd tried his might at Solo's Grooming Salon but it hadn't worked, and now he stank head to wanker of the brute.

“Babe, please.” Was she even bloody in here? He didn't know, he also wasn't sure if he wanted to know. Why? Well, he was only dragging his flea-infested body over their new wool blankets. “What have I done?”

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 She was sleeping fairly okay. After being up for hours in her empty den trying to soothe her own itchy skin, she'd finally fallen asleep. She'd been asleep for approximately an hour and a half when suddenly, motion shook her from her restless sleep and sent her to her paws, five feet from the nest, completely and utterly awake. Scents rocked her - Flynn's mostly but also ... Solomon's? The fog of sleep swept over her as she stared at him.

 “What did you do?” she managed to squeak out, blinking hard to try to clear her head as she hoped that what he said and what he smelled like weren't related in the way that struck chills into her and played horse plinko with an icy equine against the inside of her ribs.

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Luckily for Meissa, Flynn hadn't buckled under the weight of Solomon's charm and submitted. No tub-thumping had been done today, or any sort of thumping for that matter. The king didn't even know Solomon liked men, let alone him; that didn't mean she couldn't smell that stank of old lust on wasn't frothing from his pelt. “I don't know! Eye've got itches all 'ver meh!” He paused to scratch behind his ear, splattering blood, fur, and a few black crawling dots upon their home.

He met her sleepy gaze, noticing the bits of disheveled fur across her body. Oh god, he thought to himself, She's been at it, too. She had caused his itches! “You gave me cooties... W-When we had sex!” He spat plainly, the look of shame and shock on his face.

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 Well, he didn't cringe in shame, and he didn't look like he was lying. She squinted at him, paused to scratch at her neck, and squinted at him again. He still smelled like the man and not in a way that Meissa really cared for. She stopped squinting to gnaw at her butt. Itchies? “Me too!” God, what were these called. They weren't sand fleas, those were huge in the desert and she hadn't seen any big things. Maybe... She looked at the white blanket where a tuft of Flynn's fur had landed.

 Squinted at it.

 “I think they're bouncy-bugs!” she said, then looked at him. Cooties? Wh. “I don- no. No, I don't think that's right.” She shook her head. What were they, infants? Even she, who had never paired with anyone properly until Flynn, knew well enough that cooties were fake. “Cooties are made up by pups. This itchy is real -” and she was pretty sure they were trying to chase them out of their home. She'd stopped mid sentence to chew on her shoulder. Then she squinted again. “Did you... get these from Solomon?”

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Flynn, clearly offended by her blatant disliking for his only male friend, scoffed. He shook a dainty paw at her, rapidly lifting his tail to cover the damp spots still upon his bum. “No, I was itchy before I talked to Solomon! And since it's clearly on yur mind, I only smell like him because he was tryin' tew figure out what was wrong, too.” He huffed, getting to his feet with intentions of walking over to her, simply to fall to his face in another fit of itching.

“You're clearly itchy too! Who was yew out flirtin' with while I was away?” He spoke teasingly, slinking over to her like a dog dragging its ass on the floor. Though of course, there was still a twang of anxiety in his playful tone, considering everything that had happened to him over the span of a few days. “I hope 'e was charmin'... Or she? 'Ince yur uh... Into that.”

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 She didn't dislike him, per se, she just was on guard since he'd been so clearly flirting with Flynn before, right in front of her salad. He flopped down in front of her and it was all she could do to not laugh - oh, good, her mouth was being used to gnaw at her inner-elbow on her left arm so it didn't matter if she made any noise or not. “Lemme guess, did he try figure out what was wrong real close to your cock?” It was said in jest but there was some truth to her question, a worry that glistened in her eyes when she wasn't busy closing them to scratch.

 “You're the only one I've been flirting with, doofus,” she said with a slightly hollow laugh, turning to wrap her arms around him and gently chew on a spot that she'd seen was particularly ruffled, behind his ears. “Maybe you got'm from Solomon when he was flirting with you!”

 She thought for a second as she tried to get one of her own itchy spots on her back, trying not to think about what she'd just said. “Bouncing-bugs come from other wolves, or -” she looked over at their bed, her tails flying up in shock. “or sheep!” Probably. More likely deer, but they didn't exactly hunt them since he still seemed to have an aversion.

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Ah, yes, she was trying to gain his trust back by activating her trap card: head scratches. For a moment he flailed under her wrath, growling playfully underneath her as the wicked attacks only grew more vicious. He reached forward, landing fury swipes of love on her face until she was laying with her chest and forearms across his stomach. He let out a defeated squeak, allowing her to be his favourite weighted blanket once more.

“Now, now, my cock is fur yew and yew only... and solo on the weekends.” He muttered quickly that last bit, still not entirely understanding what he was getting himself into but it was all fun and games. Unlike the situation, they were in, and with how she had explained it, they were going to have to clean the entire den just to get rid of these so-called—

“B-Bouncy bugs?” He snorted, head rolling back in the chuckles that couldn't quite leave his chest with the weight now added onto him. “Say it again!” He wondered if she realised the kick he was getting out of her saying that in the cute voice she had.

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 His swipes and hits were resisted as she plowed on into him, chewing and lapping at him with playful growls escaping her lips. She slowed as she spoke, reassuring her - and then outright flipping that on its head. She let out a huff, about to get up and be upset - but then forced herself to calm. Deep breaths. Eyes shut. Scratch itch. “If he ever gets your cock or tries to fuck you, I'll castrate'm myself.” It was said in a low growl, a promise, but also... a hint of mischief flashed in her eyes.

 Was she serious?

 Let's hope they didn't have to find out.

 Then the tone got happier as they went on to think about their most pressing issue - the fleas! What she said seemed to be hilarious to the man and he begged her to say it again. “Bouncy bugs?” she inquired, then grinned. “Bouncy bugs, bouncy bugs, bouncy bugs.” With each word, she gave him a little nip, her teeth grazing across the itchy skin of his neck and chest, teeth threading through soft curls.

 Then she rolled off him with a panting grin, which was quickly replaced by gritted teeth as she scratched at her throat with a flailing hind paw. “They suck.” Well. Bite, but same difference.

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What had started out as a joke had clearly ruffled the freckled on his fiancee's face, and while he wasn't entirely sure why she'd taken it that way, he reassured her with a quick lick before she began nipping away at him. “Ya know, yew have a knack of turnin' unexpectedly violent, never woulda guest et for yew.” That was only half a lie, as he had expected it out of her, just not for this reason. Was it wrong to find her jealousy cute? He certainly didn't have intentions of stressing her out if his relationship with Bishop was the reason, but he wondered if that was fair on his end.

The male hadn't done anything out of line that he knew of... Yet.

“They do suck, an awful bunch... How ya reckon we get rid of em? If they reach my bollocks I might have to jump off a mountain again.” He laughed, caught himself, then pretended he hadn't said what he did. “Gotta get rid of em soon, got pups on the way.”

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 He commented on her violence and she chuckled. She'd always been a bit of a brute, even when she was in the desert. She'd had to be quick on her feet, quick to bite and defend, just to survive. “My word is my bond,” she said, voice almost sing-songy, patting at him gently with a paw - though it was quickly rescinded so she could use that paw as leverage to scratch at the side of her neck.

 Her fiance asked about getting rid of them, then went on to talk about if the insects decided to spread and -

 “Again?” She studied his face, trying to figure out what in the hell he meant by that. He jumped off a mountain? When? Why? How? “When - ?” Had it been while she was around or before she was in their old pack? Her thoughts scrolled through and then targeted the most obvious answer.

 Still, what?

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Prehaps there would always be parts of their relationship that would remain buried within him; a ribbon tied, looped around a segment he wasn't proud of. He supposed, frankly, it was rather common for lovers to have boundaries. Even in a puddle of affection as deep and blue as the one he wallowed in. This was an important matter partly due to his approaching behaviours, the one where he attempted to take a step forward by taking two back. “Oh, love, I kid,” Letting a lie flick from his tongue as easily as his tail would to a fly.

“These... Bouncy bugs are simply makin' me nerves swell, ya know, aggravatin' in' all.” Jowls rippled in bated laughter as if he half expected her to giggle before he had. Her silence was something, however, he hadn't expected, and it brought a coughing fit to his chest as he went back to nibbling at his furs. “I do appreciate your worry, sometimes I'm still not used to et.” He... Wanted to change to tone, standing up to nudge his soon-to-be wife with his nose towards the exit of their den.

Did he know why he was moving her out? No, but it was something to do to avoid this.

—

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 She studied him, salmon gaze focused intensely on mossy green, even as he spoke of kidding, of jokes. It didn't sound like a joke... but it also didn't sound like he wanted to talk about it. She tapped her teeth together in thought, never parting her eyes from his face. Then, she moved forward, pressing her snout into his cheek and giving him a gentle kiss. Soft words escaped her lips, “When you're ready to talk about it,” and then she pulled away to look at him again.

 She sighed, doubting she was going to get it out of him right now.

 Perhaps next time, when they weren't so damn itchy.

 “Maybe we could drown'em,” she suggested finally, accepting his want to change the subject. Despite wanting desperately to know what he had been talking about, she didn't want to pry. It was his story to tell and she would let him tell it at his own pace, however long that might be. Her paws moved under her, nudged aside by Flynn towards the exit. “Cold water for itchies, yeah?”

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