Chapter Text
“Don’t look at me like that.” Carwood closes the fridge and glances up to raise his eyebrows at his sulking boyfriend. Sparky is on the kitchen counter again, white paws tucked under himself, and he keeps fixing Carwood with a furious glare.
“I didn’t even know about it.” Carwood tries, but those green eyes are still shooting lightning at him. He reaches out to pet Sparky’s head, but all he gets for his effort is an angry hiss. He spreads his arms helplessly. “Can I talk to Ron, please?”
Sparky rolls his eyes, then moves to the back of the couch with an impressive jump. His fur ripples, and a second later he’s not a cat anymore but a buck naked man with a severe frown.
“Fine.” Ron bites out and crosses his arms on his chest.
Carwood grips the counter. He needs all his willpower to resist looking down. “They didn’t mean anything by it.”
Ron huffs and turns his gaze to the window. “Don’t you see how humiliating it was?”
His voice is softer now than it was two hours ago when he opened the link George sent them. The tension in Carwood’s chest begins to ease up. It was just a harmless prank. George, Skip and Penkala should have known better, but there’s no use being grouchy about it now. He steps closer and raises a hand again, a peace offering. Ron stares at it for a long moment, then leans forward and pushes his face into it, kissing Carwood’s palm. His dark eyelashes shed shadows on his skin as the sharp sunlight peaks in through the window.
“It was a joke, Ron.” Carwood tells him placatingly. He drops his hand to Ron’s forearm and pulls Ron’s arm away from his chest.
“I wasn’t laughing.” Ron grumbles. “Signing me up for a fucking beauty pageant…”
There’s a laugh bubbling in Carwood’s chest but he keeps it inside somehow, despite his wobbling lips. “A cat show.”
Ron gives him a dark look, but he can’t keep it up anymore, and a reluctant smile tugs at his lips. The clouds clear from his face. “I admit that the prizes were tempting.”
Carwood grins. The ones George showed them were made of shiny ribbons that Ron would have torn apart with glee. “I’m sure you would have won.”
“I would have scratched up the judges.” Ron mutters. His belligerent side still sizzles under the surface. “I hate being petted.”
“Oh, you do?” Carwood can’t help but tease. He combs his fingers through Ron’s hair, knowing from experience that Ron will lean into the touch. “I didn’t notice.”
Ron shakes his head, but his eyes are laughing.