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Nine did not like the sensation of wearing nothing but fur. Some other mobians might be okay with it, but not him. No sir. He felt completely vulnerable and… Dangit, he had really short fur, okay? Despite the comfortably warm, humid air in the spa, he was cold.
Tails had acted like it was no big deal surrendering his gear, including his socks and shoes, at the entrance of the spa. The other fox took one glance at the sign and shrugged off his jacket and goggles without having to be told what to do. Nine on the other hand, was much more stingy. He tried to get away with only removing his shoes and gloves, but was detained by one of the cephalopod aliens running the place. Its creepy suction cup arms were annoyingly effective at preventing him from advancing further. Without his mechanical tails, he couldn’t put up much of a fight against it either. His lip curled up in a snarl when it wouldn’t let go of him.
“Hey man,” Tails interjected. “Just pretend like you’re going to prison and they have to strip you down and delouse you.”
“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Nine looked at him like he was an idiot, “Do you even hear yourself?”
“Uh, heheh…” Tails scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Sorry, it’s the first thing I thought of.”
“Been to a lot of prisons, have you?” Nine asked dryly.
“No, I just watch a lot of movies…”
After some deliberation, Nine finally relented. He worried that the stupid creature might take his clothes by force if he kept resisting, so opted to go with the less demeaning path and did it himself. He made sure to shoot the cephalopod alien a nasty look the entire time, though. When he finished hanging up his clothes, it gently started herding him to the next area.
“Oh, are you sure? Sure I don’t need to take these out, too?” Nine gestured towards his industrial piercings with a middle finger. “Chaos forbid you don’t clean out my earholes, too.”
The cephalopod was unperturbed by his cantankerous behavior. If anything, its weird curved pupils seemed to give it a constantly cheerful look. ‘Stupid annoying cephalopod alien thing.’ What even were these creatures? They weren’t mobian-shaped, more like actual-animal octopuses (albeit terrestrial). Did they even have eight limbs? Well, whatever; Nine didn’t care to count. He decided to henceforth refer to them as “octos” since “cephalopod alien thing” was a bit of a mouthful.
He and Tails were led to a room with a shallow pool of steaming water. There were a few other mobian-like beings and creatures currently occupying it, but Nine ignored them. He trailed behind Tails, who thankfully got into the pool as far from the other occupants as possible. Nine considered getting in far away from Tails as well, but opted to stay somewhat close. Half because he was relying on him for cues on how to behave in this foreign setting, and half because… Well, as awkward as it was to be undressed in front of him, it somehow was also a bit comforting to not be alone. The fact that Tails was rather nonchalant about the whole thing was also a bit calming, though Nine would never admit it.
The hot water quickly penetrated his short fur down to his skin, but it was surprisingly pleasant. Nine let out a tiny sigh, but his half second of contentment was immediately interrupted by an octo grabbing his arm and lathering it up with fur shampoo. He growled and snapped at it instinctively, but his protests were completely ignored once more. He jumped and cursed each time another octo limb joined in washing a different section of fur. Even when he could see it coming, his reactions were involuntarily. It was like he became possessed by a fussy dog at a pet salon. Speaking of which- what kind of spa was this?
‘I thought they just did your paws and hair, not give you a bath like a dog!’
“Nope! That’s okay, I got it!”
Nine glanced over to see that Tails had curled his namesakes in front of him and was washing them himself. Nine quickly copied him just before his own tails were touched, thankful that he got to them first. If that octo had grabbed his tails he probably would have gone feral. Thankfully, the octos stopped at the upper half of the body. They scuttled off when they were finished, leaving him and Tails to relax in peace for a few minutes.
Soon after they were led down a hallway that gently blow dried their fur before being sat down in pedicure salon chairs (not that Nine knew what the heck the weird looking chair was). A different octo expertly spritzed him all over with fur conditioner right before he sat down, and wasted no time combing and styling his hair. Nine found himself glancing over at Tails again, who was getting his arms and leg fur combed through by his octo stylist. Nine shivered, thanking his lucky stars that his fur was too short to warrant such treatment. He couldn’t take much more poking and prodding at this point.
An involuntary whine choked out of him when his stylist started simultaneously combing conditioner through his tails. The only reason he didn’t leap out of his seat was because the combing wasn’t as obtrusive as the washing. It was less grabby. But still. This whole ordeal was starting to make him feel miserable. And he must have looked like it, because Tails piped up:
“You know a spa date is supposed to be relaxing, right? You’re going to need another run through the baths if you keep your fur fluffed up like that.”
“How am I supposed to relax,” Nine said through gritted teeth, “with these things constantly touching me?!”
“Hey, Nine,” Tails reached over and poked him.
“What?” Nine glared daggers into the offending finger before fixing the look-to-kill on Tails.
Tails said nothing, but poked him again.
“Why are you doing that?” Nine snapped.
“Is it freaking you out?”
“No, it’s annoying!”
“Good!”
“Excuse me?!”
“Being a little irritated is better than being outright upset, right? You were so preoccupied with me that you didn’t notice your tails are all finished now.”
“I did notice. I just didn’t react because I was busy being weirded out by you.”
“Yeah? And? Didn’t tense up, did you?”
“I-” Nine cut himself off. His fur had fallen flat during the distraction. He finished his sentence with an unintelligible grumble, only to yelp when a different octo grabbed his foot to begin the pedicure.
Tails poked him again, but kept his finger on his arm this time. It was stupid, it was silly. Tails was making a kind of goofy face, like a dumb kid trying to annoy their sibling. But dammit if it wasn’t super effective at somehow making Nine feel grounded.
“What is it with you people and touching me,” Nine murmured haughtily, but there was no real bite to it. He was of course referring to their third teammate, Mangey, who had an affinity for hugs, pets, and every other touchy-feely thing imaginable.
“Don’t worry, this is about as touchy as I get,” Tails knew exactly who he was talking about, and jokingly tacked on: “I’ll leave the nuzzling to Mangey.”
Nine almost laughed, but cut himself off with a growl when the octo grabbed his leg for some reason. “The fuck?!”
“It’s okay,” Tails jabbed him lightly as he received the same treatment. “It’s just a leg massage.”
“Ugh, why?!”
“Just part of the treatment, dude. It’s actually nice if you relax. Which… I know,” Tails gave him a sympathetic smile. “Maybe try to pretend you’re at a real spa with mobians instead of squid people?”
Nine almost confessed that being fussed with by a mobian would make him less comfortable, as weird as it seemed. Being touched, especially grabbed… especially his tails… It wasn’t something he ever associated with anything but suffering. Jumping, growling, and hissing in response wasn’t going to be a habit he could overcome in a single spa visit. Hell, it was still hard enough not shooting death glares at Mangey even though he was such a sweet nonthreatening guy. But Tails didn’t need to know that.
“They’re clearly octopuses,” Nine deflected by correcting his word choice instead.
“Psh, whatever!” Tails rolled his eyes.
The two continued to exchange lighthearted banter and jabs at each other. It did wonders to take the edge off for Nine. Which was a good thing because Tails’ poking finger was confiscated for a manicure shortly after.
“Oh crap, these aren’t acrylics, are they?” An oddly dismayed look overcame Tails when they sat down at the nail-drying station afterwards.
“They use acrylic paint on nails?” Nine couldn’t help but blurt out before he realized that made no sense. Acrylic paint washed off with water and soap; obviously they used something else for nails. Not that he knew. He thought nail polish was just nail polish.
“Oh, good,” Tails looked relieved as he examined his clear-coat painted nails. He didn’t seem to notice Nine’s silly question. “One time I let my friend practice doing acrylic nails on me and it was terrible. They’re all thick and weird and make your claws useless! And they last FOREVER! It was torture!”
Nine snorted, still not really sure what Tails was going on about. “Why didn’t you just take them off?”
“Well,” Tails looked sheepish. “Amy was so proud of how they came out. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“Pushover.”
“Yeah, yeah!” Tails smacked him with a tail good-naturedly.
Nine was feeling much better by the time they reached the exit. Nothing compared to the comfort he felt when they got to reclaim his belongings, though. That was probably the longest he’d ever been with his whole pelt exposed. He sighed with relief as he pulled his shirt back on. Finally, some normalcy. But as he went to pull on his gloves, he noticed something. His nails. He saw that they were painted black, but otherwise hadn’t really looked at them until now. Upon closer inspection, he saw that his manicurist had done some nail art.
“What, did they slip a worm in your glove?” Tails raised an eyebrow at Nine’s bugged out eyes.
“It’s nothing!” Nine quickly slid his gloves back on and scuttled away, doing his best to calm the wiggles in his tails that threatened to turn into wags.
Beneath his gloves, each and every nail was adorned with intricate silver and gold gear patterns. They were so fucking cool, Nine could barely contain himself. He felt stupid; this wasn’t even something he was into! How could he be so excited by something so silly after being all but tortured all day? He couldn’t help it, though- the artistry was simply immaculate. That octo had somehow peered into his soul and uncovered his most beloved aesthetic. If he was by himself, he may very well have squealed with delight from how much he loved them.