Honest to god no good

But, like. Backtrack.

Why was she like this. What did she want. Was it an escape? Or some kind of resolution to all the consistent messes of the day? Because clearly, talking things out between them didn't really work. But making out did.

Was that wrong? Asha didn't want it to be. She wasn't into relationships. Into all that work that went into it. Why bother when they could just kiss and cuddle and then go about their lives.

It was half true. Because she did long for a friendship. It felt like she could have one sometimes. But then everything she did went to shit somehow, because even when you're trying to be friends with a monster who turned you into a monster, it's not like you suddenly magically fit like two puzzle pieces.

She found she was clinging to him, and kind of starting to lean back, and kissing with... not more fervency, but with some kind of quiet longing.

She was leaning back just a little, and truthfully he would have preferred to have her pushing onto him, but. Lonely beggars couldn't be choosers.

Actually, no. He really hadn't been begging for this. Asha had started it. Give yourself some credit for once, Abraham.

As a very stupid observation, he noted how, like. Soft??? She was? In a good way. In a way that women had soft lips and skin and all that and Abraham felt like a big hairy ogre.

He ended up switching which arm was around her so that he could use the correct arm for putting a hand on the couch cushion, preparing to lean with her, over her if she went back far enough. But he wasn't in a rush at all.

He kissed her with the quiet Abraham gentleness he'd be Very Embarrassed to ever discuss with anyone.

He pulled his hand away just to replace it with the other one, and he seemed like he was down for couch kissing on top of her. She adjusted her legs, one bent against the back of the sofa and the other off the edge of it so he'd fit comfortably between them over her, though if he got a boner, he was probably going to have to do like 99.999999% of the work there. She just wanted to like. Have him on top. And then she could KO.

Her fingers carried on stroking, addicted to the fluffiness of his hair, but they were slowing, and even her kissing would slow too if he was nice enough to rest on her without any bullshit. Asha had heard of weighted blankets, and wondered if wanting someone over you for comfort was a similar concept. Just, you know, better. Because kissing was involved.

She let her other hand's fingers scritch into his scruffy beard, finding her comfort here and wishing they'd just stick to this stuff. She was trying. With the cooking and the cleaning and the eating a lot so she wouldn't stress shift. It was to keep her busy and Cuntcat occupied, but also it was attempts for peace and niceness.

She just couldn't help but like. Lose her patience sometimes. Often. A lot.

Ummm. How was he going to do this exactly without squishing her, thanks. The couch wasn’t exactly spacious, and Abraham was short but not a fucking pixie.

The arm at the side of the couch moved so that he could rest his elbow and forearm against the cushion beside her, some kind of way to hold his body up so he wasn’t just flopped on top of her like a large dead thing.

His body pressed lightly to hers, but he held himself up still because he wasn’t a rude ogre.

Bed. Suggest the bed, Abraham. Suggest something with more space. Do the thing.

But he was afraid of ruining the moment??? So he broke his kissing of her lips for a second to kiss at her jawline and then her neck, kind of hoping she’d use this opportunity to suggest it for him.

Sigh. He was being really courteous. But Asha had totally had him fall asleep on her before, so as he moved to her neck (oh no, Abraham, why are you doing that), she hummed in enjoyment, floaty in her sleepiness and the distant call of arousal by his attentions.

"You can relax," she murmured, stroking through his hair and down his back with slightly more wakefulness than a few seconds ago.

COULD SHE READ HIS THOUGHTS or did he really just give off “I’m tense and terrible at even kissing” vibes. Obviously not the first one because she would have killed him by now, so.

Literally just. Lying on top of her. No? That didn’t seem like a thing people did. How would she even breathe. Abraham had put weight on since becoming a jaguar, a feat that was a sincere testament to how bad he was at eating before all this.

But that also meant that he felt kind of fat, okay.

"Don’t wanna squish you," he mumbled to against her neck, kissing there still in a lazy sort of way.

Nothing could ever be simple, okay, especially a request like “relax.”

The neck talking and kissing felt pointed, and her breath hitched before she talked. "You've slept on me before..." she reminded him. Pretty please. It actually felt nice to have him over her. It was a thing she'd fleetingly thought about before but definitely found herself really into after the whole... jaguar thing.

Or murder thing.


Had he? Maybe after a jaguar session or something. He’d slept on her lap, maybe. Very different.


Okay. She obviously wanted this very specific thing. So.

Just do that thing, Abraham.

"You’re the boss," he said, but lightheartedly. Maybe even warmly.

A few more brief presses of his lips to her neck, and then she shifted down a little, wanting to rest his head closer to her chest rather then angling it awkwardly onto her shoulder.

And then carefully, he’d ease down, testing if this was what she wanted.

An amused huff and a shake of her head. He adjusted closer to how he'd been that other night, which was okay by her. It was what she wanted, and she craned her neck over to kiss at the top of his head in return for all his affection.

She couldn't even blame it on the knocked out Bitchuar. Asha herself just really wanted affection.

She remembered what it felt like to be a boss in her life and knew she was the boss of absolutely nothing anymore. Herself least of all.

She fell asleep with her fingers in his hair.

For all he’d told himself this was uncomfortable, it wasn’t.

Head to her chest, he listened to her heartbeat and relished her fingers in his hair until he truly, sincerely relaxed against her as a consequence of falling asleep.

It could only last for a few hours, but he and the jaguar would find contentment in what they could.

Hunger knocked shortly after his alarm did. But reactive as ever, she groaned and only clung tighter to him, wanting very much to keep him here even if it was poor were form. At least she was getting snuggles.

Buzz off, cat. Until he got up.

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