Work Text:
“Are you almost ready?” He heard the call coming from next door.
“I’ll be right there,” he called back. He pulled open the cabinet and pulled out the heavy leather chestpiece. Deep gouges criss crossed all over the heavy, embossed leather. He heaved a heavy sigh. He really had to commission a new piece sometime soon. He didn’t want to imagine what might happen if one of the claws that had cut those gauges had cut across his chest or stomach instead.
As he busied himself dressing in the cumbersome piece of armour, he heard the same call again. “It’s time, are you still not ready, Timothy?”
“Just about ready,” he called back as he finished fastening the final strips. He checked if everything was in place before nodding to himself and stepping out of the door.
Sybil scowled as she saw him come out fully armoured. “You don’t need the armour,” she pouted.
“You know you’d blame yourself if anything happened to me, so I’m doing it for you as much as I’m doing it for me,” he explained calmly, knowing she couldn’t refute that argument. She never could.
“Oh fine,” she relented and stepped towards him. With common practiced ease, she slid her arms under his armpits and pulled him from his feet, squeezing his head between her breasts.
He grumbled, but knew that she knew as well as him that he enjoyed it when she flaunted her strength in this affectionate manner. He placed one of his hands between her shoulder blades and reached up to her scalp with the other and began softly scratching. He let out a contented sigh as the vibrations of the jinko’s chuffs gently massaged his head leaning into her cleavage. They held this pose for a few minutes, Timothy softly scratching at her scalp and back and Sybil chuffing contentedly. And yet, before long Timothy could feel the jinko become restless, eager to get on with it. He also knew that she would not interrupt this moment of her own volition, so in order to tease her a bit, he kept softly scratching her for a few minutes more before finally relenting.
Sybil’s chuffing relented along with his scratching and she held him out at arm’s length. A look of mild embarrassment flitted across her face as she bit her lip. “Are you ready?” She asked.
“Let me down, and we can get started,” he assured her. With some reluctance, Sybil set him down on his feet and he sat down on the floor, where all the scratch marks scarred the wood of the floor. “Come on,” he beckoned her.
Sybil followed suit, lying on the floor and placing her head in his lap. “Be gentle,” she urged him and he smiled down at her.
He began by once again softly scratching at her scalp and Sybil quickly resumed her chuffing. He let his other hand roam across her upper arm, her shoulder and finally settled on her neck and softly scratched across the fur there as well. She bent her neck to get him to scratch the right spot and he complied with a chuckle. As her relaxation deepened, he removed his hand from her scalp and, ignoring her bosom, placed it lightly on her chiselled, exposed tummy. Immediately, Sybil froze, looking at him with wide, expectant eyes. He began moving his fingers across the skin, somewhere between scratching and tickling and she suppressed a whimper.
He held eye contact as she placed one of her paws in her mouth and began to squirm. “You like this?” He asked as one of her legs began twitching. She whimpered once more, but nodded. He intensified his effort and she started mewling and squirming even more.
Suddenly, she lunged forward and bit at his forearm. He laughed as she ineffectually tested her fangs on the leather vambrace. Figuring that she was about ready, he placed his other hand on her tummy and began tickling her in earnest. A mixture of gasping and laughing broke out from where she was still biting at his forearm and her whole body contorted. Her legs jerked around wildly, her claws producing fresh scars in the wood of the flooring.
He freed his other arm from her mouth and was tickling her with both hands now. Sybil had an uncontrolled look of jubilance on her face, even as she struggled to draw enough breath and yet she couldn’t fully stop her body from fighting against his attack. Her legs somehow managed to sneak between his torso and her claws slashed across his heavy leather chestpiece. He grunted as, even though he was safe enough from her claws, there was still a fair bit of force behind those kicks.
Finally Sybil had had enough. Quicker than he could react, she had reversed their position and he was pinned underneath her. She had that slightly crazed look in her eyes that he adored. “You think you have bested the mighty jinko?” She demanded. “And yet here you lie beneath me, husband. Now show me your deference.”
She had her paws on his forearms to keep holding him down as she stretched forward until his head was level with her navel. Dutifully he kissed his wife’s stomach in a gesture of supplication, which elicited a satisfied hum from her.
A creaking sound indicated an opening door and he bent his head to see who had entered.
“Are you wrestling again?” Balava asked.
He chuckled as he heard Sybil sigh. “Yes little cub, mommy and daddy were wrestling again,” he explained.
“But you always lose, daddy,” his daughter complained.
“Daddy always does well in the beginning, but somehow mommy always manages to turn it around,” Timothy explained.
“Mommy and daddy need to finish wrestling. Would you mind waiting with your aunt a bit longer, dear?” Sybil tried to salvage their interrupted playtime, but Timothy knew it was no use.
“I also want to wrestle with you,” Balava exclaimed excitedly and lunged towards them. Timothy placed a placating kiss on his wife’s stomach as she sighed in defeat.