Work Text:
"Ah shit. I can't find like, any seams on this thing," Nathan spun the plush toy around in his hands, pinching around and parting faux fur to no avail.
He had been scouted to assist Toki with cleaning his wealth of stuffed animals. Knowing how many he had, Nathan figured the task was far too daunting for one man to do alone, and accepted the request with minimal grumbling. The two were sat in Toki's small room, Nathan perched on his tiny bed as Toki sat on the floor, both working away at their own toys.
"Oh yeah, those ones can be tricky. I'll dos it for you." Toki grabbed the stuffed animal and, with much less fiddling, found a seam and sliced open a single stitch, leaving Nathan to do the rest. It struck Nathan that this was probably a situation to be embarrassed by, needing help to gut a plush rabbit, but Toki was clearly the expert here, and he was also aware that ruining these precious toys on any level could lead to a breakdown he didn't at all want to deal with, so he thought fuck it and decided seeking Toki's wisdom was best and easiest for all parties involved, including the stuffed animals.
While delicately cutting the seam along the rabbit's ass, it occurred to Nathan that this thing was kind of dangerous? Seeing the ease the seam ripper tore apart the thread, and how he was just barely avoiding nicked fingers himself, Nathan nervously looked over to Toki to see how he was holding up. The younger man was, obviously, much more practiced in the art of plushie dissection, and it didn't even seem like the idea of injuring himself crossed his mind. He looked peaceful, actually, like tending to the stuffed animals put his mind at ease. Pickles' voice wormed its way into Nathan's brain, all that stuff he said about overparenting, blagh. Was it really such a crime to be concerned? Especially when Toki was all... sensitive, for lack of a better word. (In his head, Nathan described Toki's regressed state as being "fucked up and mushy, baby-brained" but like, that wasn't very nice.) Either way, Toki seemed to know what he was doing, and he could probably handle a little finger prick.
Once the hole was made, then came the gutting. It felt surprisingly visceral, reaching into this lifeless rabbit and pulling out all of its white, fluffy organs. The faint memory of tenth grade biology drifted into Nathan's thoughts. Another thing that drifted into his thoughts was that this rabbit's innards were not very fluffy, and not exactly very white. The stuffing was almost rough, and came out clumps, assumedly a result of being a well-loved toy. He tossed the worn stuffing aside and made a mental note to look around for some polyfill before going full undertaker on the thing and dressing it back up.
Nathan had accepted long ago the fact that maybe stuffed animals potentially had the capacity to be cool. Much like Christmas, and cats, and those weird Asian cartoons Toki liked. He had accepted that at the right angles, they could be a good level of badass. This moment was definitely the angle for stuffed animals. Cutting them open, fisting their wounds, ripping out their guts, feeling their flesh sag within his hands as their bodies became emptied. Knowing how much Toki cared for the plush elevated the whole thing, this thing he was desecrating straight up held sentimental value, it was totally awesome.
After grasping the last fistful of stuffing, he had snapped out of the train of thought. He sat there, holding the limp and empty rabbit, sort of reeling from the gruesomeness of the whole ordeal. Toki would never ever start a solo project, but, Nathan noted, if he did, the two of them would absolutely have to collaborate on a song about stuffed animal murder. Nathan tucked that thought away and looked down to regard the man in question, who now sat gutting a second plushie. Obviously, Nathan had some catching up to do, and he reached for another toy, grabbing one that he guessed was supposed to resemble some weird anime creature, and got to work. This one had much shorter fur, so Nathan had an easier time of locating a seam to begin slicing open. As he carefully worked away at the stitch, he heard a petulant groan come from beside him.
"I'm so boreds of this!" Toki huffed and withdrew one final fist of stuffing before carelessly throwing it aside, getting it kind of all over his bedroom floor.
Nathan should have honestly expected this, but he couldn't help but frown. He was almost getting into the groove of these stuffed animal autopsies, and getting four (really, three and a half) done was not an impressive feat and didn't even put a dent in Toki's collection. But at the same time, he had to admit to himself, he was getting pretty tired of it too.
"Guess we'll have to get some laundry staff person to do the rest," Nathan said, setting down the stuffed animal he was working on, now with half of a hole running down its side, and swinging himself off of the bed.
Toki began to get extremely upset at the suggestion, tears welled in his eyes and his voice quivered, "But what if they... don't takes care of them and they don't... treats them right..."
Nathan fought all of his instincts that told him this entire situation was extremely stupid and that he shouldn't care about it as he attempted to comfort Toki, "Come on, all these worker guys like, worship us. They'd totally be nice to all of your, uh, guys," Nathan scanned Toki's expression to see if he was getting anywhere with this whole comforting thing, continuing upon seeing how the younger man's eyes had begun to dry, "And like, it's either they take care of it, or you keep sitting here trying to do it yourself and getting more upset so, like... we should go watch TV."
There was a beat, and briefly Nathan worried he had fucked up somehow, but like a light Toki's expression changed, and he was back to peacefully smiling.
"You're right! Thanks you for your helps, though," he quickly hugged Nathan, and before the other man actually had time to process that he had skipped away into the common room merrily.
Stuffed animal murder, Nathan repeated in his mind as he followed, stuffed animal murder.