Don't Turn on the Washing Machine With Kittens Inside || Oz~

[Westley Walters-Kirkland]

One Sheep
Two Sheep
Three Sheep
Oh?

He started at the shoes. The shoes obviously did not feel the need to do the same in return, nor did they have much in the way of eyes even if you did count the little holes his laces poked through. Either way there was not the slightest drop of mud or dirt or simply anything foul in sight. The stupid Australian lectured him on wiping his shoes before entering over nothing! The smartass himself had several pairs of dirt crusted trainers lying haphazardly beside the front door. Oh he would feel the wrath of a sick Kiwi, leaving him standing stunned in the doorway with a headache and chest pains, 

"Oiiiii...do these trainers look dirty to you?" he called, waving one of the array of filthy shoes by it's laces. "It's not mine you git, it's yours! Clean your own bloody shoes!" Not looking pleased in the slightest the Kiwi tossed the shoe at the wall with a thump and stomped in his worn socks to the living room. "You might want to get your eyes checked...eh..."

The boy started from the doorway in stunned silence, taking a few moments to process precisely what he was seeing. He knew just what they were, but the why and the how of the soft mewling little scumbags stayed unknown, and Kyle would have to answer. 

His chest rose and fell rapidly as he breathing started to become quick and shallow, Westley grabbing onto the door and slamming it shut to protect himself. There were so many cats, soft little poisonous balls of corruption rolling around on the couch and in the unlit fireplace. They wouldn't hurt him, he knew that after having been told it time after time yet still the crippling dread that the sight of one brought to his stomach was something that could not be ignored. "...Can you move them?" he asked to the door in an unusually small voice, hoping that the Australian could hear him and comply. If only he had an allergy to cats, it would be far more useful than anything else.

Red Sheep
Blue Sheep
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep...

[Kyle Kirkland]

It was coming to the end of their journey and the only thing Kyle could think up to distract the Kiwi for the few vital moments it would take to relocate the kittens was to get him to wash his shoes. He tried to make it convincing "I have several critters that need to be kept isolated from containments" which was half true. The kittens in question were going through their first round of immunisations which meant that for the time being they should be kept away from the outside world. But as soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew it would not be enough to convince Wes.

And sure enough the little sheep started bleating in protest and threw his shoes at the wall which made Kyle cringe inwardly. It was not a new house by any means but it was a new to him house, his first ever. Up till now he had only ever lived in apartments. Before he could tell him off for this however, Wes had marched himself straight into the living room, and came face to face with Cuddlepie and her brother Snugglepot, the two kitties that he had been trying to prevent kiwi from meeting in the first place.

"Mew?" asked Snugglepot as he padded forward to sniff out the newcomer. Westley's reaction was immediate. His already overworked lungs started pumping even more rapidly as the adrenalin kicked in and not half a second layer he had bolted right back outside. The door was slammed hard enough to rattle the frame and Kyle was pretty certain he would have locked it as well if he had been in possession of the keys. As it was he called out in a small, very frightened voice, for him to move the two furballs. Kyle could not have held back his chuckles if he had tried. Really Wes, bold as anything, was scared off by a couple of kittens. Some things just could not be understood.

""You know the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one!" He called out teasingly as he scooped up Snugglepot and chased after Cuddlepie. ""Most phobias are pretty curable. I could always get you a kitty plush, you know, for therapy." His snickers betrayed any attempt at seriousness, not that he had been trying in the first place.

[Westley Walters-Kirkland]

One Sheep
Two Sheep
Three Sheep
Oh?

"Everyone is a little scared of something you know, at least it's something more convenient than being scared of people, or of ghosts. You're probably scared of something even sillier I just know it..." He let a long sigh and let his guard slip a little, it was only Kyle after all. When he was a tot and Kyle was but in his early teens they had been attached at the hip. When he in his mother were staying in Australia for a month Wez had pitifully clung to the older boy as he begged him to not leave to school. The thought of that nearly brought up a few chuckles in his chest, if not for the soft ominous mewling behind the closed door of the Living Room. 

"I'm just going to cut on right to your room..." he called to the Australian once he had composed himself a little from the kitten shock "...uh...I'll clean the mark on the wall later, sorry about that." He had acted a little much like a brat hadn't he, this was Oz's house and he might as well treat it right just like Oz would his place. Keeping the comforting analogy in mind the boy located the largest bedroom and peered in curiously. It was surprisingly clean for a house kept by a nature buff, the boy shoving a rabbit or two out of the way before curling up under a blanket in an attempt to rest.

One eye lay trained on the door, waiting patiently for the kittens to be stowed away and his tea brought to the bedside simply brimming with honey. In fact it would be better if there was more honey than of the actual tea. He would drink it, and he could name at least half dozen that would be willing to as well. When he was sick his Mum always took care of everything, fussing over his hair and making him eat healthy. A piercing pain shot through his chest and he settled down, no longer watching the door."Oz.....oz?" he called out his name "tea? Don't forget it...

Red Sheep
Blue Sheep
Beeeeeeeeeeeeep...

[Kyle Kirkland]

"I am not scared of people! And that bunyip incident meant nothing, a bunyip isn't even a ghost!" Kyle was not fond of that memory, it had been one of his less than glamorous moments. It was all very well for the Kiwi, he hadn't had to dive into the pool where the infamous bunyip was said to lurk just beneath the waters. That had been how many years ago? Kyle tried to count as he placed the kittens in the laundry but it was impossible to remember properly. All he could recall was that Wes had been considerably smaller, a half-pint, though no less obnoxious than he was now.

Despite the age gap the two of them had really clicked, their thoughts and ideas had bounced off each other like swinging pendulum. If Kyle was telling an impossibly tall tale Wes could pick it right up and run along with it, giving their yarn a great deal more credibility. Who wouldn't believe the fluffy little lamb could ever lie? Why else would the charming youth agree with everything the tot said? Ah yes, they had been a devious little pair.

Kyle smirked wryly as he dug out his kettle and prepared the tea. The kiwi-kid, cleaning? He would believe it when he saw it, not before. Even so, it was nice that he had apologised for causing the mark. It wasn't that bad really, it meant that his house was starting to be lived in. He fed the tortoise and decided that he would try and unpack a few more of his boxes this evening, at the moment the place was still very empty of everything but the bare essentials. Now what was next? Ah yes, honey. Kyle was about to put a nice spoonful into the mug when he thought better of it and brought along the entire jar.

"There you go kiddo" he placed the beverage and sweetener next to Wes, who had already laid claim to his bed. Matilda, upon seeing a person lying down decided that is was nap time and joined Wes underneath the blanket "The marsupial is complimentary. Do you want some lunch?" rhetorical question...

[Westley Walters-Kirkland]

"Sure...sure..." he mumbled lazily, shifting the little drop bear up onto his chest and stroking her head. Oz's house was really different from his cramped apartment, sure it wasn't anything spectacular. He didn't have an indoor pool or a private cinema, but it was homely. The whole house said that someone lived there, even if there were still a number of unpacked boxes lying around for someone to trip over. The comforter on his bed smelled great too...he used the same detergent brand as his aunt, and his mother used that one as well. Maybe he could convince the Australian to let him move in, but then there were the cats... They hadn't really done anything wrong, and it would be cruel to make them live off in the laundry room because he couldn't stand their company. But still, the comforter smelled just like home, the Beeteater probably had aired it out earlier that day.

Now that it came to mind he hadn't had much contact with the Australian in the past few years, they used to be as thick as thieves. He only saw the elder on major holidays, but he was one of his only friends and when they were together they never split apart until it was time for the Kiwi to return home. He had even followed the Aussie into the bathroom on many occasions, and used to hold his hand while he slept. And then there were the times that he was used to help shoplift, not one of his proudest moments.

"Do I pour the tea into the honey?" he asked with a charming chuckle, shifting Matilda up onto his thigh as he rolled over to his side to reach the piping beverage. "I'll keep the marsupial, and lunch sounds grand. Can I have...eh...anything that tastes good? Or wait. I want a cheese sandwich! Or...uh..." His eyes lit up the prospect of some nice home cooked food. How could he ever go back to instant noodles after such delicacies?!

"Are you going to come join in the snooze fest after you cook?" He lifted up the blanket on the other side of the bed invitingly with his foot, an expectant brow raised. The Kiwi was being rather greedy, but he hadn't slept in the same bed as the other since he was much smaller. He was sleeping there right? The Aussie wouldn't make him call home to be picked up and shoo him out once they arrived? Hopefully he wasn't too bright on that, but an excuse was needed. "I'll just send a text to my dad and let him know that I'm over here...nearly forgot." He nervously spooned a few globs of honey into his tea and handed back the jar, planning on telling the Australian that he had texted the man while the other had made lunch. There was really no reason to question it, other than he didn't have his bag to get an imaginary phone from. "Now go, feed me and your child!"

[Kyle Kirkland]

“A cheese sandwich... What about a ham and cheese toasted sandwich? And don’t pretend to refuse, I know you too well.” How true that was. He wasn’t too sure if his cousin remembered their first meeting (he had been very small at the time) but Kyle did, and so did his shins. He had been a cool young adolescent with a bad haircut at the time, and would never have guessed that the overgrown toddler would become one of his closest mates. The two of them had only ever seen each other when their mums were able to get time off to jump the ditch, but what moments they’d been. Water bomb fights in the backyard, sleepy breakfasts at sunrise, evenings spent of the roof with chips and cassette tapes. Despite the height difference the two of them had been joined at the hip.

Kyle considered Wes’s offer, well pretended to consider in order to save face. It had been ages since he’d had a family nap, mostly because the family he’d been around recently didn’t seem like the family napping kind (did Iain even sleep?). Forty winks would indeed be very welcome provided that Westley could be spared; after all he still had his newfound father to report to. “If you call your dad now and sort it out. I’ll make lunch and take care of some other things. I still need to call the kittens’ parents...” He ambled out of the room to let his cousin call his dad and headed downstairs.

The ham and cheese toastie was prepared and the phone call was made. Well it was attempted. All he got was the answering machine. He also grabbed some painkillers from him his medicine cabinet to help the chest pains Wes had (no he wasn’t psychic, he just knew his cousin well). When all had been assembled he walked back upstairs and set the meal down on Westley’s lap. “Food, tea and drugs, I am a good cousin. Now slide over.”

He bundled himself up under the covers and breathed a deep sigh. The strangeness of the city and the unfamiliarity of his surrounding melted away as he relaxed into the covers. “Do you remember that time when we had that billy-cart and we took it racing down the hill near your mum’s house? That crappy contraction, held together by rust and bubblegum, felt like we we’re breaking the sound barrier... And then we hit the rock... never seen... sheep...fly."

Kyle dozed off, made comfortable for the first time in a long while by the presence of his family.

[Westley Walters-Kirkland]

The grin Wez's face broke into at the mention of the greasy delicacy was bright and cheery, something that no amount of five star food could ever bring out. Toasted sandwiches were comfortingly a reminder of Mum, and Kyle could make them just like she did, after all his Mum had been the one to teach Wez's Mum. He waved Kyle away impatiently, wanting his meal right away without a moment of dawdling. The last time he had eaten one of Kyle's sandwiches was at least a good few years if he remembered correctly, he had been pulling on his arm and badgering him for a snack for hours until the other had finally pulled himself away from something more important to feed him. And then once the piping sandwich was made and Kyle settling back in to his work Wez had reappeared with the sandwich inhaled and desperately in need of another. After receiving a response to wait until dinner [it was going to be a large one for the holidays], he changed his tactics. The Kiwi dropped a half eaten loaf of bread on top of the desk, and then a few slices of ham, followed by oil, cheese, and a frying pan. He didn't receive the sandwich, instead he got a rigorous scolding, wonderful memory.

"Yeah, I'll call him, go feed me now..." he nagged, waving his hand at him once again dismissively, watching Kyle turn and head off to the kitchen. Of course he didn't call him though, instead rolling over and burying his face into the pillows comfortably, breathing in the familiar brand of detergent and lazy Koala. Said lazy ball of hair was currently draped over his back and he didn't feel like moving her away, she made a wonderful back warmer. He had to eat though and gently he pulled her off and set her down on a pillow to nap on without impaling him if he squished her.

Lazily he rolled over at the sound of footsteps and patted his lap for the tray, leaning over to take a large whiff of the food "no soup? Disappointing" he joked, scooting his bum over to make room for the Auzzie. Then without another word he dug in, stuffing his cheeks full of the tasty calories and grease. He felt the bed dip beside him and the blankets be pulled off and away up into the little Kylepillar beside him. "I remember..." he mumbled, glancing over and giving a fond pat to his head. The billy-cart was a great idea, until the landing. Luckily for him he had landed on Kyle and was hardly hurt, and luckily Kyle could never be hurt.

He shoved the tray off onto a nightstand and downed the drugs with the rest of the tea, patting his belly happily before lying back down. Green eyes stared at the Kylepillar cynically, trying to figure out the best way to get into the blanket, the bottom seemed like the best point of entrance. He lifted up the edge and crawled up under the blankets, shoving his head up through the tightly bundled blankets at the top and pressing his cheek to his sleeping cousin's. And with that he closed his eyes and made himself comfortable, settling down for a long needed nap.

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