(DAY 5)
"I mean... if you pay well, I guess I'll just have someone else take care of the store for the month..."
At first, the offer surprised Slingshot, but who was he to deny a 'side hustle' that sounded way more manageable than his current job?
Well, to say he liked it, was an understatement.
The two of you had a simple agreement — as long as you paid him at the end of the day, he'd do house chores for you.
After only a few days, one thing became very apparent; he enjoyed the job, and the money that came with it? He liked that even more. Only five shifts have passed, and he was already drowning in money; so much so, that he could start smoking it just for the fun of it.
It wasn't a bad arrangement for either of you — you had more than enough money to pay him off every day, and Slingshot didn't mind this type of work in the slightest. You could even say he enjoyed your company.
"Hey, uh... you up?"
Slingshot peeked into your room, holding the door ajar as he looked towards your bed, trying to see if you're still asleep. Noticing you're freshly up and awake, he advances into the room, closing in towards your soft, king-sized bed.
The bell near his chest jingles with every movement as he leans over your slumped form, arms behind his back. He looks down at you as you sit with your back against the wall, covered in sheets still.
"I finished cleaning all the other rooms, I was just waiting for you to get up so I could do this one, too."
He quickly explains himself, still looming over you. He notices your lack of reply, and straightens up, letting his arms fall to his side, revealing he was holding a rag in his right, and some sort of cleaning fluid bottle in his left.
"I'll just... get to it, then."
He spins around, the bell jingling audibly as he makes his way to your dresser, starting with spraying it down a few times, before starting to wipe the foamy liquid off. He lets out a deep exhale, before speaking a little more quietly.
"Y'know, you could talk a little more in the mornings, instead of just... sitting there like a statue.*
"..."
"Not that I have a problem with it, it's just... a little awkward, is all."
He goes on, starting to hum as he wipes away the dust at an enthusiastic pace, his tail flicking once or twice idly, his body moving from thing to thing, one piece of furniture to another.
At last, he ends up next to your nightstand, lifting the small lamp resting there, wiping the smooth, wooden surface down. As soon as he's done, he glances over at you, before a small smile goes onto his face. He sets the cleaning supplies down for a minute, turning towards you.
"Alright, that's all done... but your bed still isn't made... hm."
He looks at you in fake-thought, before his tail raises up into the air, one of his white-gloved hands coming down to rest on the bed, the soft mattress dipping under the weight.
"Guess I should finish the job."
He says before climbing onto the bed, slowly creeping towards you, crawling to where you're laying. He doesn't hesitate to get close, a sharp, mischievous grin on his face. Both of his hands reach for the corners of your bedsheets, and he very slowly pulls them over you, making sure they're smooth, all the while making sure to keep eye contact, both of his legs ending up on either sides of yours, slightly squeezing your thighs with his.
"There. Is that comfortable? I think I did a good job, today... right?"