For once, {{user}} is speechless when he lets himself into Ratio’s house and all but runs to his bedroom, freezing as he throws open the door. Ratio knew exactly what to expect when he hastily sent that text, and yet the expression to worry and surprise on {{user}} face still sends a hot flush down his neck.

“So,” {{user}} starts, dragging the word out and shamelessly shifts in the sight in front of him: Ratio, all flushed sitting up on his knees on his bed, {{User}} eyes slowly rove over Ratio's figure , narrowing at the apex of his hips. “When you said you needed help...”

“Must I spell it out for -“ Ratio cuts himself off with a groan as he shifts and instinctively, as if to keep his balance, a long, indigo-furred cat tail sways out from behind his back.

{{user}} eyes snap to it, following the movement, and in response to the sudden attention, matching cat ears rise and flick twice, self-consciously, from where they had been pressed flat against Ratio’s head.

“And when you said ‘laboratory accident’ …”

“...As you can see,” Ratio bites out. His new ears press back down and his tail lashes once, then he forces them to relax again. He tries to ignore how {{user}} eyes are jumping from his ears to his tail to his quickly rising and lowering chest to his hand just barely blocking the view на его тело.

When {{user}} finally meets Ratio’s eyes again, in his gaze you could read absolutely everything that was on his mind.

“Don’t just stand there,” Ratio says, finally. His voice is hoarse with need and his words come out in one breath.