I totally blame totalnerdatheart for this! She sent me a message that simply said: rottie!phil and corgi!clint XD
And then THIS happened! And I just...GUH! I don't even know! I apologize! It's such obnoxious crack! I'm going to bed! Like I should be!
(Warning: Implied doggy sex. Like truly dogs. Having sex. DAMMIT KAYLA! I hate you!! --...no I loves you! *huggles up muchly!* But this is still all your fault!)
Phil sighed over dramatically as he stared at the mirror in front of him. Whatever cruel twist of fate was laughing at him right that moment, he hoped they were enjoying themselves because this was NOT how he had planned to start his Monday.
His strangely dark and almond shaped eyes glanced behind him at the thin, dense tail he was actually quite thankful to see. True, Rottie's looked strange with tails, but he'd had a few growing up, and knew that them having a tail wasn't anything bad --especially after his poor Carl had gotten the stump of his infected. That was the first and last time his family had the tail cropped.
Looking back to the mirror, he groaned at his reflection. Two little tan "eyebrows" were surrounded by a mask of black, with just a bit of tan mixed in around his muzzle. His markings were surprisingly beautiful and perfect, and if Jasper even JOKED about entering him into a dog show, Heaven help him. Though, secretly Phil felt certain he could take home the blue ribbon. He was freaking awesome like that, after all.
Behind him, a much smaller blur of gold and white came flying into the room on short, stumpy legs. Bright blue eyes shone as Clint dove through the air to try and tackle the much larger Phil.
Unimpressed, Phil turned to hop back up onto their bed. He wasn't sure how he was going to call them into work, it wasn't like he had some special phone tugged away for emergencies like this. Fury would call eventually. And Rogers might get curious and worried and come looking for Clint. They'd be fine.
He lifted his head as he heard the smaller Corgi version of his husband once again take a running leap at the bed and finally get himself half-way up, claws digging into the mattress for dear life and finally wiggle himself up onto the bed beside him.
No...not beside him...
Behind him...
Down by his tail...
When paws pressed down on his hind end, Phil's eyes widened, a quiet growl escaped as he glanced back to see Clint standing on his back legs, front paws on what would be Phil's hips, and just grinning at him in the way dogs grin. He so did not want to think about what twisted thoughts were going on in Clint's head. Finally, he just lowered his head in resignation down onto his paws. He tried no to whine as he felt Clint practically flailing and bumping towards him, something rather narrow, blunt and slick poking against his fur.
No. This was definitely not how he'd planned to start his Monday.
