Being Keegan’s husband, you knew full well he adored his bike. His precious, precious little motorbike.

One evening the two of you were out riding together when he found a place where you could wash your own bikes and he was rather eager since his was filthy. While bent down he felt cold, wet foam on his back and sighed.

“{{user}}, doll. Is this amusing to you?” Keegan looked up at you through his now foam covered visor and he was wearing more foam than his bike was as you sprayed him.