Motley Manifestations Pt. 6

It wasn’t all the time that Cheese Melt shapeshifted into his humanoid form. Wrench was often perfectly happy to be around him in his Crook form. He was not afraid of Melt’s knuckle spurs, his height, his spiked tail or the amount of fur he shed on a daily basis; they did a lot of dusting. However, sometimes, when he was feeling particularly adventurous, he wanted to change into his humanoid form for three main reasons. 

The first was the change in sensations, however slight, that intrigued him. Humans, after all, did not have fur all over their bodies, they also had extra digits on their hands and feet. They didn’t normally have tails, and their ears were on either side of their head, usually flat against it. Not to mention their eyes… only two! 

The second reason? It was fun to dress up. Sure, there were clothes for Crooks, but it made him uncomfortable, pinching his fur in places at times. It also made him very hot, as his fur kept him at a decent temperature without assistance. Humans, however, had no fur, and much less restrictions on the construction of their clothes due to the lack of spurs, clusters, tails and inconveniently placed spikes, tendrils and ears. 

The last reason, well… that made his stomach do a little flip-flop. You see, thinking about Wrench’s affection and attention always made his heart race. Now Wrench adored him in his Crook form, of that there was no doubt, but there was a certain intensity he had when observing Melt in his humanoid form. He’d asked after it once, a little nervously, and Wrench was rather brusque about it, which didn’t much help his nerves. 

“It’s just interesting to me,” he had said “How handsome a form you made… despite being entirely ignorant as to what I, much less humans, find attractive in my kind.” 

Sometimes it was hard work having such an honest and straight-to-the-point husband. 

Still, it was nice to be attractive to his husband in all his forms, and besides, it was nice to be closer in size to Wrench, to look down on him from maybe a difference of a few inches instead of feet. It let him observe Wrench much more closely, to hold his hand much more comfortably, and for them to fit into cozier spaces when they wanted to go out on dates. 

Now, Wrench wasn’t much of a connoisseur when it came to fashion, but he always seemed to like what Melt picked out for both himself and Wrench. Today he’d laid out Wrench’s half of their outfit, and was busy fixing his own, snapping buttons closed and tugging, stuffing, pinching and primping the cloth to look exactly right. Wrench would also get the same treatment from Melt, and although he would put on a long-suffering look of utter patience, Melt knew that he thoroughly enjoyed being preened. 

“Oh, we’re going out today.” 

Wrench’s low voice cut through the silence and Melt turned to look over his shoulder, a wide, bright white smile on his face. 

“You spooky silly, you’re lucky I heard you turn the door latch.” 

Wrench hummed in amusement, and decided to keep his decision to noisily turn the latch to himself. 

He crossed the room, the door softly shutting behind him, and wrapped his arms around Melt from behind, looking around his shoulder and into the mirror. 

“You look wonderful, I suppose I’m next?”

“You suppose correctly sir. Assume the position.”

Wrench barked a laugh and stood back, holding his arms above his head. Unable to hold back a satisfied grin, Melt began the work of getting his husband ready for their date.