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[melannen]

I watched my first episode of The Great British Bake-Off this weekend, and, um.

does there exist a Check Please story where Bitty does super-high-stakes high-stress competitive baking and Jack just sort of slouches around skating for stress relief at 3 AM and being a supportive boyfriend? Because I want to read that story.

So anyway.

I need a kick in the pants to write again after being derailed by chiggers et al. Anybody feel like doing the timestamp thing? Give me a time before or after any of the stories on my AO3 and I will write a ficlet about what was happening then.

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[melannen]

ok, sure. although really Mouse has no problem with clothes, it's more that Harry has a problem with Mouse *not* having clothes.

Harry threw a veil over Mouse to get him home without causing a riot, because fuck everything.

He dropped it when they got home, and it got a lot harder not to notice just how very, very, very naked Mouse was. Except the collar. With Harry's name on it.

"I'm always naked," Mouse pointed out. "It doesn't usually bother you." Mister sauntered up, sniffed him, gave Harry a deeply unimpressed look, and jumped on the back of the couch for a nap.

"You're not usually that naked," Harry said. That was a lot of brown skin. A lot of muscles.

"I still have fur," Mouse pointed out.

Yeah. Dark and kind of curly and definitely a different texture than the fur he'd had as a dog. Harry had been trying not to notice that. It led to places he didn't want to think about. Literally led to them, in certain places.

"Just-- go in the bedroom and wrap yourself in a sheet or something," Harry said, turning his back.

"OK, Boss, if you say so."

He heard Mouse go into the bedroom and waited long enough that he figured it was safe, only to find Mouse possibly even more naked than before, because it was harder to get more naked than naked and sprawled on Harry's unmade bed.

He put a hand over his eyes again. "That is not what I meant, Mouse."

"It feels good, on skin," Mouse said. "Lots of stuff feel good on skin. I kinda see why you gave up fur."

"That's why we wear clothes, Mouse. Just. Cover yourself, please? I'll run down to the Junior League shop and get you some jeans and a t-shirt or something."

Mouse made a discontented noise and rolled over, the sheet wrapping around him. Probably. Harry still wasn't looking. This was incredibly inappropriate in so many ways. "That seems like a waste for three days. I can just wear yours," he said.

"I don't think mine will fit," Harry said in a slightly strangled voice. He had to shop at Big and Tall to get jeans that were long enough. Mouse would have to shop for Big. "Seriously, I can get you something at the thrift store and then donate it back."

"But yours smell like you," Mouse whined, as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to say. He god out of bed and rustled something. "You can turn around now," he added.

He'd wrapped the blanket around him like a sarong, which made him look like some kind of Asian surfer god. This was still a vast improvement on the previous, even if he was now rummaging through the pile on clothes on the floor.

"This should fit," he said, pulling out Harry's favorite Weird Al t-shirt.

Harry grabbed it out of his hands. Mouse raised a very eloquent eyebrow. He'd only had eyebrows for an hour, how could he do that?

"Not that one," Harry said. "You'll stretch it. Why do you care how it smells? You don't have a dog nose at the moment."

"Yeah," Mouse said. "And that sucks. I am being very calm and zen about this, Boss, because someone has to, but everything smells wrong. I smell wrong. Having something familiar around helps."

Harry couldn't really argue with that, even if it was still kind of weird. He pulled a less-favorite t-shirt out of the pile ("Rule nineteen: Remember Never To Forget Rule One") and said, "Here, that would probably fit." He always had to get them ludicrously baggy if he didn't want them to ride up. "I really don't think any of my jeans will fit you, though."

Mouse was peering into the closet. "I bet they will. You wear 'em loose, I don't have to. Where's that old soft pair that always makes you smell relaxed."

"You don't get that pair!" Harry said. Mouse made puppy-dog eyes at him. Harry sighed. "Fine." And pulled them out of the back of the closet.

"I bet they'll fit if I roll the cuffs up," he said, and he was probably right, because of course the ludicrous chest muscles were paired with tiny slim hips, because sometimes life wasn't fair. "Let me try them on." He reached for the blanket that was around his waist.

"No!" Harry said. "Underwear! And socks. Let me get you some underwear and socks and then I will leave the room while you change."

Mouse watched him digging in the sock drawer with an air of faint amusement that would have made Mister proud. "You're being silly, boss. You know I spent half an hour last night licking myself next to you in the bed."

"Thanks, I hadn't thought of that yet, that's very helpful." He tossed the rest of the clothes on the bed. "I'm going back out into the living room now. Don't come out until you have clothes on."

"What if I can't figure out the zippers?" Mouse asked.

"Yell for help and I'll toss Bob in to give you instructions.

Mouse chuckled. "Wow, you are discombobulated, boss."

"Was that a pun?" Harry asked. "No, never mind. Clothes. I'm leaving."

Mister gave an approving trill from Harry's lap when Mouse came out a few minutes later, not having needed help with the zippers. Harry turned to look.

The clothes that just sort hung on Harry and made him look like a homeless slob... did not look like that on Mouse. The T-shirt clung to every line of his pecs and Harry's oldest pair of jeans were actually filled out for the first time in their long career. They were straining across the thighs; Harry feared for the seams. He'd needed to fold up the cuffs a little bit, which did make Harry feel slightly better. Slightly.

Mouse stretched his arms over his head and everything strained and tightened even more. "I think it works on me," he said. "What do you think? You should wear clothes that fit you like this more often, Boss."

"You'll pass," Harry said with elaborate casualness.

"Nice," said Mouse, and flopped on the couch next to him at a (lack of) distance that would have been perfectly normal if he was still a dog. "So what's next? Do we have time for dinner before your thing with Marcone?"

"You are not coming to my thing with Marcone," Harry said. "For so many, many reasons, you are not coming to my thing with Marcone."

Mister abandoned his lap to curl up on Mouse's.



..I think I have now written more Mouse/Harry UST than anyone else on the internet. Thanks for that.

[lannamichaels]

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

[beatrice_otter]

Hee!