Man, it's a shame we don't have a chapter of catastrophic consequences, your twice weekly hfs e/l sequel heroverse enemies/lovers convexian shenanigans fic as co-written by @varanere00 and myself to put here i guess you all will have to make do with this first epilogue, instead then. enjoy!
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A few quick texts while tidying up the ConCave turn up Tango as being available, with Doc potentially willing to meet up after he's off shift.
There's not quite the same hollow void as the previous times Neit and Ari had left, but Cub sees no reason to change up a pattern that has worked out pleasantly thus far.
So he de-Vexes himself, packs a nondescript set of wings, and heads over to Tango's place, a whole house on the outer edge of the city, picking up some pizza along the way.
"Cubby!" Tango greets him brightly from the door as Cub pulls up in their driveway. "And you brought pizza!"
"Figured I might as well." Cub hefts his bag over one shoulder, carrying the pizzas on the other hand.
Rather than having to ask, Tango bustles Cub on through to the kitchen to set down the majority of the pizzas.
"We're taking over the upstairs!" Tango hollers into the house. "Pizza's downstairs!" At that call, the house comes alive, doors opening and feet pattering.
"Hey Cub, thanks for the pizza!" Puppies is the first to arrive, giving Cub a quick peck on the cheek in greeting that he returns before she's already moved on, heading for the pizza.
"Better get some before Dipple Dop steals it-" Skizz isn't far behind, though he lingers with Cub and Tango.
"You're welcome to join us. We have our own pizza." Cub lifts the three party pizza boxes he's still carrying for emphasis.
"Lemme grab the ranch, I'll be right there." Skizz leans in for a quick kiss from both Tango and Cub before heading off. Sounds of his gushing affections for his wife drift back over to them from the kitchen.
"Let's go grab the good spots in the nest-" Tango snickers, grabbing Cub's hand and darting off. Pulling Cub along all the way to the top floor, to a sort of combo of lounge room, gaming room, and office. On account of the fact that Skizz has his PC setup in one of the corners.
What Tango pulls Cub to though, is the nest pit. Initially a sunken couch pit, Skizz and Puppies had transformed it into a nest within a week of moving in. As avians do.
Well, Cub is coming around on the topic of nests. They were particularly nice while he had all those feline instincts running around his brain, but they're not bad even without. Warm and soft, and containing people he likes being close with.
Case in point, Cub leaning himself right onto Tango's shoulder once Tango is settled in the nest.
"Gib the goods, Cubby!" Tango makes grabby hands at the pizza. Being handed a box, Tango digs in enthusiastically, moaning in pleasure at the first bite. "Damn, Cubby. You always bring the best stuff. You have got to give me their address."
"Then how would I bribe my way in here?" Cub grins. There is something oddly fascinating about the verve for food that Neit and Tango display with their vocalizations.
"You know you don't have to bribe us, Cub. You're welcome here, pizza or no. Even if pizza is a big bonus. Gimme!" Skizz plops himself next to Tango, plates, bowls, and ranch bottle in hand.
"Yeah, alright, man." Cub swaps a box of pizza for a plate and some cutlery. A fair trade.
Mulling over Skizz's words, Cub decides that isn't too surprising, given that Tango is his friend. Is- Cub'll work any further conclusions out later. After he's gotten a slice or two of his pizza into him.
"A shame the ears are gone. No more silly little kitty-Cubby time." Tango bemoans.
"That is one of the things I wanted to discuss. I'm working on recreating the effect, preferably without the explosion this time." Cub selects his pizza slice.
"Oooh, mhn, could that then be applied to other people too? Could we have kitty Impy? Or kitty Skizz?" Tango perks up from what looks to already be his second slice.
"Or a cutie-wutie kittie-cat Tippy-Top here?" Skizz snickers, ruffling a hand through Tango's hair.
"If the new method proves successful and safe, I could make it available to willing participants." Cub nods.
"Nooch!" Skizz cheers, smothering his chosen slice in ranch. There's more ranch than pizza by the time he picks it up to eat.
Cub politely looks away.
“So? Any new hot gossip?” Tango prods Cub, flickering the flames of his hair.
"Nothing much. Not since we last spoke." Cub shrugs, sawing at his pizza.
"Really?" Skizz leans in, thankfully without any ranch drips dribbling anywhere. "That's not what I heard. I heard a little birdie was spotted in your airspace again. Hm? Any comment, Sir Rub-a-Dub?"
"Yeah, Ari and Neit, that is Cuteguy and Hotguy, came over again. What of it?" This is the perfect moment to take a bite of his pizza. Cheese, and good, but not how Cub prefers his pizza.
"What? Again!? They weren't hassling my Cubby, were they?" Tango puffs up a tiny flare of flame.
"Oh no, quite the opposite. They were very welcome. Invited, even." Cub corrects.
"So you invited them and they just tromped on in?" Tango blinks. "Wait, how did you even invite them? Smoke signal? Carrier pigeon?"
"Wasn't me-" Skizz snickers.
"Via text." Cub grins up at them impishly. "And they didn't just tromp in, I was waiting for them."
"You're sure they haven't been kidnapped and replaced with moon rabbits?" Tango gestures vaguely. "That's beginning to sound more reasonable."
"Very. Doc had me do a full demi-transformation workup, that would have uncovered any moonrabbits." Of that Cub is sure.
"Oh, well if Doc's sure." Tango flops himself down on Cub's lap, as much as he can without disturbing Cub's plate.
"How'd it go with them? Did you get to try anything new?" Skizz asks, going back to his pizza.
"A little. He said no to any wing displays until I complete his challenge, but responded I think favorably to the farewell. Is garbling your words like you had a stroke a favorable response?" A genuine question. For now, Cub just has Neit's grin to go off of.
"I'm going to go with yes. That sounds hilarious and favorable." Skizz nods sagely.
Poke and a prod from Tango's claws. "You mentioned that, what's the challenge?"
"Is it appropriate to speak about?" Cub turns to Skizz.
"With people you're tight with. Family and close friends and the like." Skizz assures him.
"Ah, okay." Cub nods, going quiet.
"So? Spill!" Skizz demands.
"Huh? But you just said-"
"Cub. Cubby. Cub, buddy." Tango reaches up, grabbing Cub's cheeks. "Please. Please tell me that you understand that we're both your friends."
"I- Maybe?" Cub tries.
"Whuh?" Skizz tucks his wings in tighter behind himself.
"Oh my god." Tango bemoans. "Skizz, you have to tell him."
"Tell him what?" Skizz asks.
"This idiot doesn't understand we're his friends! Just, nothing! Gah!" Finished with his outburst, Tango flops back into the nest, previously bright burning hair extinguishing expertly moments before it touches the bedding.
"You never said." Cub murmurs, looking down at his plate instead of at either of them. How could he just assume?
"Cub, buddy, pal." Skizz can't keep a hint of amusement out of his attempt at a serious voice. He reaches out, grasping Cub's shoulders. "We're- I would like to be friends. If you'll have me. I thought we were. Are. Stuff."
"I think I'd like that. Yeah." Cub wets his suddenly dry lips. Odd, that, especially with the grease from the pizza still clinging to them.
"Good! Then it's settled! We're bosom buds!" Skizz practically cheers.
That's. Huh. Cub carefully cleans the grease from his lips with a napkin. Sets his plate aside.
Which is when Skizz drags him in for a hug, now that there's nothing to tip over on Cub's lap. Skizz's hugs are- Overwhelming, but also nice. Feathery, a bit. The hug even comes with a kiss, at the end. Nothing much, just a quick friendly peck on the lips.
"Now that we got that all cleared up, spill! Cubsy! What does CuteBird have you doing?" Leaning back, Skizz throws a wing over Cub's shoulders. On his other side, Skizz wraps a snuggling Tango in his other wing.
"He said he has eyes on another villain, for his archnemesis." Cub goes over the conversation again in his head. How many times thus far has he turned it over, seeking any tiny detail? Any clue? Any lead? "I have to find out who. Get him out of the way." Cub's hands clasp tight around one another. No one else can have Ari in that way. Cub won't allow it.
"He tasked you to kill?" Tango pipes up.
"Not in so many words. The how may be up to my discretion? I think?" Certainly, Cub had had murder on his mind. Still does, if he's being honest. "He might have slightly protested implied murder, a little."
"Well how else does he expect you to 'take care' of a villain? You can't just drop 'em of at the station, they'd arrest you too." Tango might have a point.
"I could just chase him out of town. Persuade him to back down and butt out." Cub would rather something more certain than that, though. "But planning for that takes a backseat to finding him in the first place."
"Any leads yet?" Skizz asks.
"No." A single, tight word.
Reasonably, it's barely been days since Ari issued the challenge. Nobody would expect anything this soon.
Cub should be done by now.
"Did he give you any clues?" Skizz asks. "These challenges are supposed to be hard, but doable. The harder the challenge, the more competent a mate they think you are."
"Barely anything." Cub runs through it again. "Ari referred to the villain as 'he'. And I believe implied that he had not caught the villain before." A soft sigh, tucking himself further into Skizz. "I may have jumped the gun on agreeing before getting more details."
Cub could curse himself for not prying more when he had the chance, but that wouldn't change anything. He has what he has, and he'll have to work with it. Nothing villainous in this city so much as twitches without Cub finding out, how hard could one villain be to find?
Unfortunately, over Cuteguy's roughly decade long career, he's fought most villains currently active at least once, yet rarely actually brought anyone in himself, often playing support. Though it might not make much difference who brought the villain in if they did eventually get caught. Active villains will be the simpler place to start, then inactives.
At least Cub can already mark Tango and Impulse off the actives list. Two less to check.
The brief temptation to simply run every other villain out of town surfaces, but passes quickly. Impractical, and it would ruin the balance of the city. Who would Neit fight, between Cub's heists? Neit has to face people he can actually turn in, after all.
And brute force would simply be an unsatisfying way to solve this. Irritatingly.
"Man." Skizz whistles. "Either he's setting you up to fail or he has a really high opinion of your capabilities. Rightfully so dude, you're amazin'!"
“I.” Cub bites his lip, almost missing the way he could cleanly pin it with a fang. “Don’t think he wants me to fail.” Does Ari? Was the purpose to distract him with a pointless goose chase? No, Cub can’t believe that.
"See? That's the spirit!" Skizz laughs. "Ya know, when this fucker here challenged me to complete a Decked Out run, I thought he was out to kill me instead of mate me. This was still back in the Decked Out One times, too."
"Ugh, don't remind me of that clusterfuck." Tango groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. "The redstone sucked so hard, the noodles were all over the place, and it looked like crap."
"Excuse you! That's my husband you're pooping on there! Who is an absolutely amazing redstoner and engineer! So don't you go talkin' bad about him, capiche?" Snagging Tango in a headlock, Skizz grinds his knuckles into Tango hair while Tango flails and protests.
"Also, do recall that the engineering behind your original Decked out design was the reason I offered you a job in the first place." Cub mildly reminds Tango. Why Tango insists on downplaying his own abilities and achievements so much, Cub will never understand.
“Cruel! Rude! Betrayal! How dare you team up on me!” Tango wails, eventually flopping limp in Skizz’s arms, flame burning a sullen low.
“Suffer our care and love, homie buddie.” Skizz snickers.
"I deserve none of this." Tango states, only to be battered by large white wings.
"Speaking of wings." Nobody is speaking of them, strictly speaking, but it's a good segue to the topic Cub wants to ask about, and he's learned that this one is also applicable to general topics or prominent happenings in direct surroundings. "Skizz, could you show me how to do body language with wings? I brought a pair."
“Of course! I’m honored you’re comin’ to me for help!” Skizz swoons a bit, dragging Tango with him.
With a nod, Cub digs out the wings. Not one of his recognizably Vex pairs, though the tech is the same. This set looks more like a colorful stained glass rendition of more traditional fairy wings in style, though the articulation points are the same. Different enough to the eye that Cub doesn’t carry a simmering tension about the slim possibility of being caught wearing them in his civilian identity. He could explain it away without being connected to Vex.
Getting them in place by himself proves tricky, without their stand made to let him just slot them in by backing up. Fortunately, Tango has experience helping with his wings, and is at Cub's side in moments, holding the wings up for him. Is this what having friends is like?
Tango also knows enough to duck backwards once both wings are in, as they automatically run through their full range of articulation once activated. A lesson learned the hard way by being wing-bashed none too gentle a few times.
Cub had tried pausing it once, only to have Tango whine about being all ready to dodge for nothing. So Cub just lets the sequence run these days.
"You're looking quite comfy in them, I've gotta say." Skizz comments, thoughtful, as Cub finishes and folds them back. Not that Cub thinks he was particularly uncomfortable wearing his wings before, they've been quite useful.
"So if I'm comfortable, I just fold them?" That sounds easy. Why did Cub think this would be hard?
"It's more about how you fold them. A bit loose, not like you're scrunching them in close, but still tucked away, like you won't need them for much other than idle movements." Skizz explains, fluffing his wings up briefly, then settling them again.
"So the way I'm holding them now? Also do you need permission to touch my wings?" Cub tries to copy Skizz's motions.
"Yeah, pretty much that." Skizz nods. "And close family or friends might not need permission to touch, if there's precedent for that being okay, but givin' permission can be good for making stuff more clear to everyone."
"Then I'd like to make it clear that you all have permission to touch." To him, touching his wings is not any different than touching any other part of him. "Though not when I'm on a charger. Having a RAM stick fry while still plugged into your brain is not a pleasant experience." Both Skizz and Tango shudder at that.
"What's not a pleasant experience? Hi Cub, Tango. Skizz. I heard there's pizza?" Impulse greets, coming in the room.
"The thief returns to the scene of the crime!" Skizz bounds up and drags Impulse into the nest with them.
"Brain RAM frying." Cub repeats, making room for Impulse and Skizz to rejoin.
"Brain RAM frying? You fried a RAM stick in your brain? Yikes. How'd you manage that?" Impulse drops a kiss atop Skizz's head as well as Tango's forehead, making grabby hands at the ranch when Skizz hands him a plate of pizza.
"Apparently, I get some static buildup if my wings are touched while on a charger, which discharges back up into the RAM, frying it. And since it's the RAM directly hooked up to my sensory cortex..." Cub doesn't feel the need to further elaborate, given the plainly pained expression on Impulse's face.
"You got that looked at, right?" Impulse asks, gesturing vaguely.
"Yeah, Doc swapped in a new one for me." Cub nods.
Tango wiggles his eyebrows. "Oh, Doc was there, was he? I wonder how you could have had wing touching in bed~"
"It was Neit, Hotguy, actually who pet my wings and fried my RAM. Not fun, especially since he doesn't know about. Well. Anything outside of the faerie-tale." Cub explains.
Tango whoops. Loudly. Ouch.
"You beded Sir Hots? Good job!" Skizz claps Cub on the back enthusiastically.
"Are you planning to. Tell him?" Impulse asks, more quietly.
"I did 'bed' him, but not at that time. And honestly? I have no idea if I'll tell him. If I can." Cub slumps back.
"If you're feeling sad or dejected, you're gonna wanna let your wings droop. Hang loose. Ideally by the elbow joint. Leave the wrist joint nice and loose so your segments bunch together, that's it! Lookin' real sad there, Cubby!" Skizz takes the moment for a lesson. Cub supposes it does fit, and finds that being in the mood seems to make the proper wing articulation easier. Plus, associations and all. Hopefully, this will teach his brain to associate wing pose with emotion.
"That almost sounds like you're considering telling him." Impulse rests his chin on his palm. "Do you think you can trust him with that?
"I'm not dismissing the possibility." Cub says slowly. "But now may be too early. We don't even know each other's identities."
"I should hope not!" Tango's fire flares.
"So, what, it's a fuckbuddies situation?" Skizz asks.
"I have no idea. But then again, I am apparently crap at judging the nature of relationships. Speaking of, Impulse, are we friends? Also, regardless of the answer, you have permission to touch my wings." Cub nods, satisfied with his answer.
"Ye- Wait why? I. Yes, I think we're friends?" Impulse stumbles over his words, blinking, much to Skizz's snickering. "Are we?"
"You don't even have a little bitty bit of an idea, with Hotshot? A theory?" Tango asks, peering up at Cub.
"I uh. I could ask him?" Helplessly Cub shrugs. "I honestly have no idea what we are. We just. Have a standing appointment to have remote dinners together once a week, and he and Ari, that's Cuteguy, are slated to come over after my next scheme for a post-fight hangout? Which will probably lead to sex and them staying the night? Remember Tango, until you told me, I had no idea we were friends."
"When did you tell him?" Impulse leans into Tango to ask.
"Like last month, Impy! Last friggen month!" Tango wheeze-shouts, tail thrashing.
"That sounds like a good talk for you two to have. Maybe at one of your dinner dates." Skizz encourages.
"Last month!?" Impulse sounds disproportionately shocked by this information.
"I'll ask." Cub replies. "Though it couldn't hurt to form a hypothesis first."
"Sounds good. Why don't you tell me what all you two've done?" Skizz uses a wing to prevent Impulse hitting his head on the edge of the floor.
"Last month!" Said sprawled out man wheezes. "Cub, you've known Tango for six years!"
"I've known a lot of people for six years. Is six years a significant criteria for friendship?" Cub tips his head at Impulse. He's pretty sure that not everyone he's known for six years are friends. ...right?
"Significant crite- Cub, most people know that they're friends within hours to days of meeting each other!" Impulse shoots upright, toppling his pizza plate over. His ranch soaked pizza splats squarely onto his pants. "Fuck!"
"Hours to days? But how? How do they know?" That sounds. Incredibly fast. Is everyone like that? Does Neit know what they are? Are there people Cub has spent hours with who are of the opinion that they're friends? This is more concerning than it initially appeared.
Skizz pins Impulse in place by the shoulders. "Don't thrash, you'll just get it everywhere. Top, get his pants off, will you? Carefully."
"I've got it." The coordination with which the three free Impulse from his condiment-drenched pants truly is astonishing. Cub sadly does not have the brainspace to fully appreciate it.
He does at least distantly appreciate not having to spend brain real estate on condiment-splattered nesting material. Leaving Cub all of that cranial space to dedicate to this quandary.
Tango heads off with the balled up pants, which Impulse doesn't bother to replace, unlike the slice of pizza, which he does replace.
Fanning Cub with a wing, Skizz relaxes again, now that there's not a Situation. "Careful not to overheat from thinkin' too hard, bud."
"I'm just. Baffled. How do people know they're friends? Is there some kind of code?" There has to be, right? Some empirical way of differentiating between friend and not-friend.
"Man, why isn't there some kind of code? There should be." Impulse lounges back with his complaint.
"Sorry, I wish I could tell you it was that simple." Skizz shakes his head.
"Ya just kinda gotta feel it man. You just know." Tango shrugs. Unhelpful. Tango flops back into the pile, laying himself wholly across Impulse's lap. Hands lifted and turned over, to show they've been cleaned of any dressing.
"But what happens when you don't just know?" Cub finds his wings raising with his agitation. He'd thought he'd already mapped out most of the ways he was different, so to find this whole overlooked gaping chasm- Well, he certainly doesn't enjoy it.
The three look at each other.
"I think," Skizz starts slowly, "that that is a conversation you should have with Ren. He should be able to help you out there."
Cub looks at each of them. Ah. He's making things awkward. They don't want to talk about it anymore. He forces his wings down into the position Skizz had described as relaxed. "Yeah. Maybe."
"Hey, no, buddy. Don't misunderstand me. It's not that we don't want to help. We just don't know how. I have a suspicion, but psych is far from my specialty. I'm a trauma nurse and surgical healer, for crying out loud." Spreading both his arms and wings wide, Skizz invites Cub in. "You want a hug, homie buddy?"
Cub bites back on wanting to snap that he wasn't looking for psychiatric help, that he doesn't need someone in a professional capacity to tell him he's broken when he's been doing fine, regardless of what other people think is 'normal'. He'd just wanted advice from his friends so he could understand. Instead of saying any of that and making the situation more awkward, Cub leans forward into Skizz's space, letting Skizz hug him.
"It's gonna be just fine, Rub-a-Dub, you'll see." Skizz murmurs, stroking soothing lines between Cub's wings.
"Yeah, man. Of course it will." Cub will just figure it out himself. That's worked well enough thus far. If he can't, then it probably isn't that important anyway.
At least Skizz's touch is nice, for Cub to lean into.
"By the way, wrapping someone in your wings like this?" A rustle from the great while plumage surrounding them, "That's how you comfort someone. Great with hugs. Just make sure they're fine with bein' touched first, alrighty buddy?" A hand on Cub's cheek, Skizz draws back far enough that they can look at each other.
"That makes sense." Unlike most of the rest of the conversation. "Ari does that sometimes, usually with Neit."
"Usually?" Tango pipes up.
"He has put a wing over me a few times." Cub admits. The words feel like admitting, at least.
"That's a good sign." Skizz's smile is almost as bright as Neit's can be. Cub wonders if they'd get along.
"That's cute, is what it is." Tango snickers.
Impulse snorts. "Makes sense."
"Does that mean he wanted to comfort me?" Cub does not recall being particularly distressed in those moments.
"The meaning can vary a little. Sometimes it's giving comfort or support, sometimes it's expressing comfort with someone. It can also be a kind of protectiveness as well." Skizz explains.
"Or just feeling snuggly." Tango teases.
Skizz smothers Tango with a wing, keeping the other around Cub "Wings can be useful for warmth in cuddles, yes." He adds, primly.
"And smothering." Cub points out.
"That's an advanced lesson." Skizz quips, while Impulse begins preening the feathers of said smothering wing until Skizz lets up. A few quiet coos escape Skizz.
"I think I'll be skipping that one." Tango wiggles his tongue at Skizz.
"You wanna learn to preen?" Skizz asks.
"Can I?" Cub perks up. "Is that allowed?" His hands flex. He wants to. He wants to preen Cuteguy- He also wants to preen Skizz. "Does it feel like ear-scratches?"
"Preening is for close family, mates, and close friends. It feels amazing! So get in there! Impy! Make yourself useful and show Rub-a-Dub how to do it!" Turning his back to them, Skizz spreads both wings wide and fills his lap with a large pile of pillows he promptly melts over.
"Say that like I'm not already in there-" Impulse shakes his head, though a fond smile plays around his lips. "But here, I'll start over. Honestly, preening seems like something you'd like, Cub. It's all about individual attention to each feather, making sure there's nothing under it that shouldn't be, and there's no damage, and then laying them all smooth-like again. Sometimes they're loose, and those ones you take out. But don't force it if it doesn't want to go." Impulse gets into a smooth rhythm of talking and demonstrating, hands working slower and with more visibly exaggerated gestures than before.
"Lookin' good there Cubby." Tango drapes himself over Cub like a warm blanket, completely disregarding the way Cub's wings phase through him. The chill barely registers to him, he's told Cub before.
"Careful, you wanna pull em out more like this." Covering Cub's hands with his own, Tango guides Cub through removing a broken feather.
Cub takes note to pull in the direction the feather should be facing with a pinch only to the feather shaft and a swift plucking movement, that seems to be what Tango means. Especially with the approving noise Tango makes after the next broken feather.
"Some freshly come in feathers will bleed when broken or removed, especially these big suckers." Impulse mentions, tapping a large primary. "Those ones don't need to be pulled often, usually only from real damage rather than regular wear and tear, but when they do you need to apply pressure or a clotting agent after you get them out."
"And if it's a primary, show me which one so I can shed the one on the other side. Need the symmetry for proper flight." Skizz adds through cooing what Cub is coming to suspect is the bird version of a purr.
Cub has never thought about just how large the feathers on an avian are. Now that he has his hands on them, he can see that only the ones at the top are the size he knows from prior art class. The other are much, much bigger, the primaries longer than his his arm. In some cases almost as long as he is tall. It does make sense, with Skizz being a tall guy, and the fact that all feathers have to originate at the wing arm, which is not significant thicker than a regular arm. Impulse shows him how to massage that too, something Cub immediately takes pride in excelling at. Both due to the fact he has prior massage training, and the fact that he can phase through any feathers in his way. Too bad he won't be able to do this for Ari, what with him not liking Cub's phasing. Skizz really seems to be enjoying himself. Which reminds Cub-
"Skizz, am I okay to phase through you? Ari doesn't like it, and I was wondering if that's an avian thing or an Ari thing."
"It's cold as hell, but I don't see why not?" Skizz goes briefly quiet for more cooing. "I shouldn't think it's an avian thing, leastaways not that I know."
"I figured I'd ask. Don't want to make you uncomfortable." Permission given, Cub digs his hands in earnestly, any further words Skizz may have been looking to utter drowned out by the deep, fullchested groan the massage drags out of him.
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say he's the opposite of uncomfortable right about now." Impulse chuckles. "Your magic touch and all."
"I do what I can." Cub hums, paying close attention to the way the wings under his hands shift.
"You do good. Even when they're awkward pushy weirdos about it." Impulse bumps shoulders with Cub.
"Hey!" Tango leans over, chomping down on Impulse's ear.
"Ow! Watch it! Shark face!" Impulse smacks loosely in Tango's direction. Who's grinning widely, showing of every one of his triangular front teeth.
"Hehe! Get bit, sucka!"
"There have to be easier ways to get a new piercing." Cub comments mildly, getting a renewed Tango drape full of snickers. The warmth is a lovely contrast to his own chill, no matter how used to the cold Cub is.
"Do me next?" Tango practically begs from Cub's shoulder. His back and shoulders are always full of knots and tension from lugging around straw and hay and feed for his ravagers, and heat has little to no effect them in helping relieve muscle tension. It's no wonder he covets massages from everyone willing to give them.
“Of course, of course. Down you go.” Cub nods. He has no reason not to agree. Massaging people is soothing to do with his hands, and easing a... friend’s pain is satisfying.
Tango practically throws himself down atop Skizz. “Cubby you’re the best!”
"Yeah, I know." Kneading into Tango's shoulders stirs the same wiggly-warm feeling in Cub that preening and massaging Skizz had. One Cub had written off as excitement about learning something new. Massaging Tango is not teaching him anything new.
It is, however, letting him make a friend feel good. At least Cub is pretty sure those moans are ones of pleasure, and not of pain. Something new to reflect on.
"Massaging is great with preening. But can also be a way to reciprocate preening, when your partner doesn't have wings. Or wings that can be preened. Can your wings be preened, Cubby?" Skizz asks from under Tango.
“Hm. They can be cleaned, I suppose? Neit likes touching them. And-" Cub remembers the shivery sensation. “Is wing licking standard for avians?”
The pile under Cub's hands shakes as Tango and Skizz both burst out laughing, along with Impulse next to them.
"It most certainly is not!" Skizz howls.
"Though, your wings do kinda look like rock candy, so I can kind of see it?" Impulse chuckles. Copying what he's seen Ari do, Cub tries whacking Impy with a wing.
"Ow! Ah, fuck. That hurt!" Impy's hand flies up to where he was whacked, coming back with a small smear of blood on his fingers.
Now that he looks, Cub can see a matching smear on his wing, where it made contact.
"Huh." He must have miscalibrated. Odd, Cub could have sworn that was just how Ari did it. "Oh, right. I'm sorry. Do you-"
Impulse gets yanked down by a hand out of the pile, and by the time Cub can re-locate the broken skin- Well, it's not broken anymore, just smeared with blood.
"Fledgling growing pains." Skizz murmurs, still muffled under Tango.
"I'm going to have to practice that, aren't I?" Cub gets back to kneading into Tango's back. Would this be even better as a felinid? Something to try, once he has the formula down.
"You would practice that, wouldn't you, Cubby-dubby." Skizz sounds so incredibly fond, Cub can't tell if the question was rhetorical.
"Yes? A pressure sensor mat over a punching bag should to the trick? To learn the amount of force I can use without causing injury." Better answer anyway. Answered rhetorical questions often cause amusement, which is a better outcome than the annoyance and frustration caused by unanswered actual questions.
"I will not be reprising the role of punching bag, thanks." Impulse bumps shoulders with Cub though, leading Cub to think that's feigned play-upset more than actual.
"Planning to have to keep your heroic duo in line, hm?" Tango asks, with that tone like he's wiggling his eyebrows.
"Maybe. Maybe. They can both get pretty wild." Finding a particularly large knot under Tango's shoulderblade, Cub digs both his thumbs in, making Tango yelp and hiss.
"Breathe." Skizz thumps a wing arch against Tango's ribs.
"Trying." Comes the wheezing, breathless reply. Cub lets up for a moment. Can't be having his subject hold their breath during a massage. That's rather bad.
“Villain on villain violence. I see how it is.” Impulse chuckles. “Taking us out one by one.”
“It’s more efficient to get dinner together, if you’d like.” Cub comments mildly, returning to working Tango’s back, now that Tango’s breathing again.
"I'd argue you brought dinner to us." Impy waves his fresh slice of ranch-drenched pizza in a vague salute before taking a bite.
“That I did, that I did.” Cub nods. He brought dinner to share with his friends. Turning over the thought in his head, Cub finds it to be a pleasing shape. “Consider yourself taken out, then.”
"Taken in, maybe." Skizz giggles. "Though we have been 'out' for years now."
"The laws worked out rather well, didn't they?" Cub muses. "We did some good work there."
"That you did Cubby." Skizz, evidently having enough of being squished, starts to wiggle his way out from under Tango in inhuman motions. The wet crackle of bones and the shlorping of flesh an appropriately telling soundtrack.
"Gross, man, come on-" Impulse whines, looking away.
"Squizz. Skizzcake." Tango snickers, unbothered as Skizz oozes out from under him to sit up, followed by Skizz cracking all his bones back into place.
Tango greedily accepts the pillows Skizz then stuffs under him, to prop him back up for Cub's massage now that his living pillow is gone.
"Lemme at more of that pizza!" Skizz shuffles his way over to the box and plates on the upper lip of the nest pit.
“All gone.” Impulse declares, getting himself tackled by Skizz. Their scuffle is... Maybe Cub just has Ari and Neit on the mind. Maybe he hasn’t stopped having Ari and Neit on his mind in over a month-
Watching the two with his head rolled to the side, Tango wolf-whistles as Impulse gets Skizz into a headlock. A sound that cuts back into a moan as Cub firmly works another knot.
"Nu-uh you don't! Cheater! That's cheaty!" Impulse grabs onto one of Skizz's aural wings when the crunchy-squelchy sound of shifting gives away that Skizz's trying to ooze out of the headlock.
“All’s fair in love and pizza, bud.” Skizz’s voice slides over gravel before his throat snaps back into proper shape for talking. The remaining uncaught aural wing flaps and baps at Impulse.
"Terrible no good chicken, you." Impulse wags the aural wing in his grip around some before relinquishing it. Though he does hand Skizz his plate, with a fresh slice of pizza on it, after.
"I'm a dove today, thank you very much." Skizz answers primly, before falling ravenously on the new slice of pizza, not even bothering to dip it.
"Does shapeshifting make you hungry?" Cub asks, watching Skizz.
"Hell yeah it does!" Already having demolished the first slice, Skizz digs into the next one.
"The more of his body he shifts, the more energy it burns." Impulse explains.
"I see." Cub turns that over in his head. He'll have to make double sure to stash nonperishable snacks Ari likes around the ConCave, near beds and nests. Maybe Neit could suggest some? Cub will have to text him later. "Thank you." Cub remembers to add.
Tango swishes his tail, brushing the unlit puff of it along Cub's arm.
Having finished up with Tango's back, Cub sets to work kneading at his upper arms.
Which gets Cub a freshly melty Tango, tail draped loosely over his arm. "Should I offer to let him... preen, my wings?" Cub asks, once Skizz has slowed his devouring enough.
"You could! Just make sure to tell him you don't expect to preen his in return. How would one even preen your wings, though?" Skizz dips another pizza slice in ranch, taking a large bite.
Cub curls one of his wings forward. "If the purpose of preening is to clean and maintain, then my brush and cleaning solution might be the closest analogue?" He rubs a thumb over the smooth pane.
"Probably." Not that he's no longer being massaged, Tango turns to get his grabby hands on Cub's wings. "Do you windex them or something?"
Scrunching up his nose, Cub spreads his wings into Tango's hands. "I make my own formulation."
Unrepentant, Tango leans in to give the wing in his hand a sniff. "Smells like windex." He grins.
"I can un-massage your back, you know." Cub moves with glacial slowness to tap Tango's nose just barely with his wing.
"What no! Cubby, you wouldn't want all your hard work to go to waste would you?" Tango blinks his solid red eyes up at Cub.
"It all gets undone anyway, just sooner or later." Cub shrugs.
"Mean." Tango pouts.
"I prefer sensible." Cub grins. "You'll know when I'm being mean."
Impulse shudders.
"Cubby scary." Tango giggles.
"Only when I need to be." Point sufficiently made, Cub leans in and presses a kiss to Tango's forehead.
"Sap." Tango grins, drawing Cub in for a kiss.
"Is that why I'm surrounded by people with sweet teeth?" An unrushed kiss, comfortable and familiar.
A kiss that is rudely interrupted by a Skizz scream. And then another scream. And ano-
Tango flails, scrabbling around to turn off the alarm on his phone.
"Sorry guys, Nugget's due for labor any day now, gotta go check up on her."
Once he manages to shake off the startle of the alarm interrupting his thoughts, Cub nods. "It was good seeing you." Cub knows that Tango's liable to end up there the rest of the night caring for his ravagers, once he heads down, especially if one is pregnant.
"Noo, Cubby, I'll be right back. Five minutes. Ten, tops." Tango whines, dropping a kiss on each of their heads as he clambers out of the nest.
"Is that a request for someone to retrieve you in that timeframe?" Cub tips his head.
"No, that's him vastly underestimating the time-gobbling vortex that is the stables. He'll be back in an hour or two, or he'll fall asleep in the straw next to Nugget." Impulse shrugs. "His fault if he does. And if he's late for work because he has to shower off the smell of ravager."
"His boss might have to discipline him." Cub muses. He at least knows that Skizz and Impulse know not to take such statements as anything more than play.
"Aw no, the horror!" Tango grins, now out and fully upright. "Anyway, see ya later! Toodles!" With a cheeky wiggle of fingers in their direction, he's off, flicking his tail back to burning bright.
A polite wave in return, before Cub settles back to lean on Skizz's sprawled legs. "Is there anything else I ought know? About avians?"
"I was considering getting some more passive visual learning in, if you're up for that."
"Like a demonstration? Or a presentation?" Cub asks.
"Something like that." Skizz climbs out of the nest himself.
"My pillow now." Impulse catches Cub when Skizz's legs slide out from under him, and steals himself some tangled up cuddles.
As expected of Impulse and Tango's home, the audiovisual setup here is nothing to be sneezed at.
"Impy! Why isn't it showing the thing?" Skizz calls out from back at his PC. The low hum in Cub's implants that tells of Impulses proximity kicks up a notch, betraying his use of his technopathy.
Impulse slides his hands over Cub's ears. "You forgot to plug in the HDMI cable!" A holler right back to Skizz. "The thick black one with the white flag that says 'TV HDMI' on it!"
"Thanks, Dop!" Clattering from behind them, then the 'no signal' screen is replaced by a paused movie on the big TV.
Cub perks up when the screen changes, though he mostly remains relaxed into Impulse. Busy contemplating tiny thoughtful gestures.
The still frame of the movie goes away, replaced with bright darkness, the kind just before a splash screen or logo.
"Might as well mix things up some, have a little Cubster style fun with it." Skizz chatters.
The title 'Traditions of the Avian Flocks: Past and Present' fades into view as Skizz pulls the blackout curtains shut and joins them in the nest again.
Laying himself across both their laps, Skizz makes himself comfortable as a warm, feathery blanket. A wing makes its way under Cub's hand, allowing him to fiddle gently with the feathers while watching the film with rapt attention.
In the back of Cub's thoughts, separate ideas tick away. Nebulous warmth in Cub's chest, warmth and comfort in his body beyond even the heat of blankets and bodies near him. That Impulse cares about not upsetting him with loud noises, that Skizz knows he enjoys documentaries, that Tango trusts Cub with easing his pains.
Cub decides that he likes having friends.
