#otayyy everyone be. niceys.

[termagax]

25- Write about your ship bathing or swimming together 🐟🪝💕

"Come on, you reek."

"I do not."

"This whole place smells like a whales arse"

"Smelled like that before we got here."

The protest was half-hearted, an irritated grumble as they let him scoop them out of the bed anyways. The fish had spent most of the day asleep, whinging about being sore, which meant it was as easy as it'd ever be to get them to clean up a little.

They relaxed a bit when Roadhog slid into the tub behind them. Their current hideout between jobs was some pricks idyllic vacation home in the mountains. Rat had disabled the alarm and they'd already spent the better part of the week enjoying the luxuries of the wealthy, one of which happened to be absurdly massive bathtubs.

They had a lot of mass between the two of them, so it wasn't too often that there was ever really room for the both of them to bathe comfortably. Even still, the fish's ridiculous tail had to drape over the far edge so they could properly stretch out.

"I think I smell nice," they said, leaning back into his stomach as hot water filled the tub.

"You don't," he said with a snort. They jabbed him in the side with a bony elbow. He just laughed.

If he was being honest, most of the time they didn't smell awful. They had a naturally fishy sort of thing going on, briney and musty, but like a wide, swampy river more than a bait shop. Not the best, but he'd developed a taste for it that made it seem... sweet, almost. Homey, if he was feeling sappy.

Unfortunately it was only as pleasant as it was understated. They were the most resistant of the trio to ever really 'clean up' and as the weeks wore on it began to show - and the more time they spent away from Oz, the more the nose-blindness of the disgusting wasteland faded away and Roadhog found himself with less and less tolerance for their preferred level of filth.

"Turn the water off," they said. They didn't move to do so themselves.

"It's not full." It was barely halfway, just covering their lap.

"I don't like it full."

"You're a fish. You love water."

"Not this water," they said.

"Not radioactive enough for you?"

"It's freshwater, dumb fuck," they kicked the faucet to punctuate. "It's different."

"Mmm," the smell of an incoming rant was thicker than the seaweed stink.

"Its awful, it's like trying to breathe in fucking smoke, and it tastes weird, and I get all dried out and itchy for days afterwards and it's not like I can just pop out for a swim or anything after because you cunts dragged me away from my perfectly good ocean so we can run from the cops in more scenic locations, like this absolute charmer of a fucking ice factory." They gestured at the massive, fancy windows, where a picturesque snow was falling over a landscape that looked straight from a christmas card.

"Mhm." He grabbed one of the fancy-pants soaps and lathered it up, manuvering them while they complained so he could scrub down their back. He pressed down a little harder than strictly neccessary, paying special attention to the spots they always said were sore.

He wasn't really listening as they bitched about soap in their gills and scales that shed everywhere and how much they hated flowery smells. He'd heard it all before. They could whine all they wanted, really, because there was nothing so satisfying as watching their dull, dusty scales turn all shiny, a shimmery blue-green-pink that flowed in the light.

So he stuck to his task, working down their back, melting the tense cables of muscle down smooth as they puttered on, eventually fading out into an indistinct grumble and vague, frustrated gesture.

"Babe," they complained, rolling their shoulders into his hands. "I'm trying to gripe here."

"I'm not stopping you," he said with a chuckle. They groaned, sinking into the water and rearranging themself in the tub, settling on the other side so they could glare at him more effectively. The ire was less convincing when they stuck a leg up into his face.

He rolled his eyes and complied, continuing the soapy massage, feeling extremely smug as their irritation drained away.They rested their head against their tail, expression soft as they watched him. He could never tell what they were thinking. His own face always gave him away and they could read him like a hand of cards, but he never had been able to see what was behind those eyes when they stared at him like that, intense but unfocused all at once. That's probably why the question caught him so off guard.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He faltered for a second.

"I'm not." Deflecting seemed safest. Those eyes left his hands, staring straight up at him now.

"You don't even like me."

"Mmm." He didn't really say anything. He kept his eyes on their legs.

"You don't. You don't like anything about me." They kicked his chest with the leg he wasn't holding. He grabbed them by the shin before they could do it again.

A glance spared to their face showed a much more comprehensible look. That stupid, smug little smirk with their teeth poking out even more than usual, the kind that pushed up their eyes and flared out their fins. Whatever had shadowed them earlier had been pushed aside for this - an invitation to play.

"I don't," he conceded. He couldn't help but grin, though. He brought a foot to his face, planted a kiss right on their bony ankle. "You whine about everything."

Their eyes sparkled. He dragged them closer, away from the edge of the tub until their legs were straddling him and he could hold them by the hips. They had to scramble to stay upright.

"You're a lazy drunk." A kiss to the inside of one knee.

"You're a pervert." Leaning over to kiss their chest, licking into a gill for good measure.

"You're obnoxious - too clingy." A kiss to their shoulder.

"You're disgusting, rude, ugly, slimy, weirdo." A trail of kisses up their neck punctuating each little insult.

"And," He looked right in their eyes, forehead pressed into theirs. He could feel the gentle purr-like rumble in their chest. "You fucking smell."

The tension broke like glass on brick, their barking laugh loud enough to make him recoil. Still, the laugh was contagious, and he chuckled as they wrapped their arms around his head, pulling him down for a proper kiss.

He payed them back by dunking their head under the water.

They shot back up, betrayed and sputtering an awful lot for someone who could breathe under there. He just laughed and lathered his hands with shampoo, pulling them close again while they muttered obsceneties and threats of murder.