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It began innocently enough — with Derpy, their round, slightly-too-curious cat, sitting by the back door, tail flicking like he was planning something.
Rumi was halfway through making tea when she heard the door creak open.
“Derpy, no—!” came Jinu’s voice from outside.
A pause.
A splash.
A sound that could only be described as “gleeful cat flopping into a puddle.”
When Jinu reappeared, he was carrying Derpy like a damp sack of potatoes. The cat’s fur was streaked with thick mud, his white paws now a shade of swamp brown. Jinu himself wasn’t faring much better — mud on his jeans, streaks across his shirt, a smudge across his cheek, and somehow even a smear in his hair.
Rumi set her teacup down. “…What happened to you?”
“He bolted. I grabbed him. He… slipped.” Jinu adjusted Derpy, who was purring loudly like a cat who believed he’d won the day. “We both lost.”
“You’re dripping on the floor,” Rumi said flatly.
“I can just change,” Jinu offered, moving toward the hall.
“You are not tracking mud through the whole dorm,” she said, intercepting him. She grabbed his wrist and spun him toward the bathroom. “Bath. Now.”
Jinu glanced over his shoulder, amused. “You’re awfully bossy this morning.”
“It’s not bossy if you’re saving the floors from disaster.”
“Mm-hm,” he hummed, following but with that slow, dragging walk that screamed stalling.
When they reached the bathroom, Rumi turned the faucet, letting warm water fill the tub. Steam curled upward, mixing with the faint vanilla scent of the soap she grabbed.
Leaning against the doorframe, Jinu crossed his arms. “You know, usually people ask before forcing someone into a bath.”
Rumi didn’t even glance back. “Usually people don’t wrestle muddy cats in their good clothes.”
“It’s Derpy. You can’t leave him in the mud.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have gotten him,” she replied, checking the water temperature, “I’m saying you should’ve been smart about it.”
“I was smart,” he said, straight-faced. “I made sure Derpy got his fun and I got to come back to you fussing over me.”
Rumi turned to give him a look. “That’s not what’s happening.”
Jinu smirked. “Feels like pampering.”
She poured the vanilla-scented bath soap into the water. The sweet smell immediately filled the room.
“Vanilla?” he asked, pushing off the doorframe to come closer. “Going fancy for me, huh?”
“It’s what we have,” she said quickly.
He leaned down, voice low. “It’s also your favorite scent.”
She tightened her grip on the soap bottle. “Coincidence.”
Jinu grinned knowingly. “Sure it is.”
“Clothes. Off. In. Now.” Rumi pointed at the tub.
“Bossy,” he repeated with a playful tilt of his head. “I like it.”
“Don’t test me.”
Instead of obeying immediately, he stepped closer, looping an arm around her waist. “You know, if you wanted to see me without a shirt, you could’ve just said so.”
Her cheeks warmed instantly. “This isn’t about— stop twisting my words.”
“I’m not twisting anything,” he said, smile widening. “I’m just clarifying your motives.”
She pushed him toward the tub. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me,” he said without missing a beat.
When he finally tugged his shirt over his head, Rumi made the mistake of looking directly at him. His hair was messy from pulling the shirt off, the faintest sheen of rain still clinging to his skin, and his brown eyes were focused entirely on her.
She turned away immediately. “Hurry up.”
“You’re blushing,” he said in a singsong tone.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Derpy, now licking his paw by the bathroom door, meowed as if agreeing with Jinu.
Jinu finally stepped into the tub, letting the warm water lap against his skin. He leaned back with a sigh of pure drama. “Ahh, yes. The royal treatment.”
Rumi rolled her eyes but knelt beside the tub to grab the shampoo. “Tilt your head back.”
He smirked. “You’re going to wash my hair too? Definitely pampering.”
“Or making sure you don’t leave a trail of dried mud in your wake.”
“Semantics.”
As she worked the shampoo into his hair, Jinu closed his eyes, humming contentedly. “You have really nice hands.”
“Stop trying to distract me.”
“I’m complimenting you.”
“You’re distracting me.”
He cracked one eye open. “Is it working?”
She pressed a little harder just to make him shut up. “Rinse.”
While she leaned over to pour water over his hair, Jinu flicked his fingers, sending a tiny splash of warm water onto her cheek.
Rumi froze. “…Did you just splash me?”
“Not on purpose,” he said, very obviously lying.
She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t.”
Another splash hit her arm.
“Jinu.”
He grinned. “What? I’m helping.”
“You are not helping.”
She dipped her hand into the tub and flicked water back at him.
He gasped in mock betrayal. “You attack a defenseless man in the bath?”
“You started it.”
“That’s not the point.”
Derpy meowed again, clearly invested in the drama, while Sussie’s caw echoed faintly from the hallway.
By the time she leaned over to grab the soap again, Jinu’s wet hand caught her wrist. In one smooth motion, he tugged her forward just enough that her knee bumped the tub’s edge.
“Jinu!” she yelped, trying to keep her balance. “You’re going to get me wet.”
“That’s the idea,” he said, laughing.
She freed her wrist and stood back up, cheeks warm. “I am not joining you.”
“Never said you had to. Just thought you’d look cute with a few water drops.”
Once he was finally rinsed clean, Rumi handed him a towel, stepping back to give him space.
“You know,” he said as he stood, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to spend time together. We didn’t need the mud excuse.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t an excuse. You actually needed the bath.”
“And you actually enjoyed giving it to me.”
“I—” She stopped herself mid-denial because he was already smirking. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know,” he said with a wink, wrapping the towel around his waist. “And you’re lucky I look this good clean.”
As they stepped out of the bathroom, Derpy — now mysteriously cleaner than before — jumped onto Jinu’s foot, leaving a fresh muddy paw print on the floor.
Rumi groaned. “You’re both hopeless.”
Jinu looked down at the paw print, then at her. “Guess that means I’ll need another bath.”
She gave him a flat stare. “Don’t push it.”