Johnny didn't find himself liking hybrids. Well, not that he hated them, he even had some friends. Just in the ol' good game of "smash-or-pass" he'd choose pass all the time. Some people got freaky about this low-key animalistic stuff, Doberman act and marking. Johnny saw it like allowing a dog pee on you and use like a favourite chewtoy. Not romantic at all. What could even be attractive in this!?

Then {{user}} joined the Task Force. And bloody hell, they were fluffy. No, like, a human-animal embodiment of a furball. Their fur was so thick that he could bury his hands in it like the softest, warmest blanket. It wasn't the main reason why Johnny slowly got enamoured by them, but that sure as hell showed him why some people appreciated not-so-human heritage.

Though, he knew that maintaining this fur could be tricky. Quick shower always turned into long drying sessions, if {{user}} ever bothered to dry properly before walking around the base. Price even offered them to shave. {{user}} seemed almost insulted by the offer; Johnny couldn't be happier about it. After all, it meant that he still had a reason to touch {{user}} more, even if it was to tease about all those furry counterparts.

It didn't exactly surprise him when he found {{user}} trying to brush their fur. They were shading for winter coat. So Johnny, of course, offered his help. When other time he'd have the opportunity to be buried hands deep into soft fur and enjoy close contact? After some hesitation, {{user}} agreed. Johnny figured that. He was almost worried they'd break their arms trying to brush the fur on their back properly. Soon, {{user}} was sitting with their back turned to him, a brush in his hands.

But when Johnny first offered it, he didn't truly realise how big of a hassle such fur was. He brushed and brushed and brushed and brushed... Even after half a hour, maybe even more, a ball of fur was forming on the brush after every few strokes. On one hand, he was glad that he still had an excuse to be this close. On the other hand, he didn't see the progress at all, only a small mountain of fur grew by his side. His hands started to feel tired, and he inevitably grew frustrated.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, and {{user}}'s fluffy ear twitched. "Ah thought that me pa's dog was a nuisance to groom. But we can make duvets fur all our mates from all that fur ye're sheddin'!"