Shift

Tim levered the shift key up, revealing the fine metal pins that held it in
place. Snagging another tissue, he tried to gently feed it under the key to sop
up the mess. He had little of Rob's patience for fine work and twisted his mouth
in frustration as he held his breath and pushed a little more.

"Oh for fuck's sake!"

Slamming the butter knife and the rectangular key on the coffee table, he dumped
the laptop on the couch and sat back, arms crossed behind his head.

The cat glared and resumed his cleaning routine, diligently demonstrating a
complete disdain.

"You're a stereotype, puss, you know that?"

A cobweb trailed from the light fitting (god, he'd have to get that shade put up
sometime soon) reminding Tim of the hours he'd just sent immersed in the chase
of images and videos on his favourite sites and the housework that had gone
begging as he palmed another gob of lube and enjoyed.

Good thing Rob was as bad as he and could blindly step over all manner of
things, housework, the elderly, shopping carts, small minivans, Liechtenstein,
especially if sex was on the other side. Hell, he'd flagged half the sites Tim
favoured.

Rather depressingly though, he doubted he ever looked as artlessly innocent nor
as beautiful as those he saw draped over various laps online, mewing whilst
undulating their hips for the camera. He'd have to ask Rob next time though he'd
probably lie…he was sweet that way.

"Maybe gumming up his computer with KY will get him in the mood? Eh, puss?" Tim
stretched out a hand and lazily ruffled his fur. "Get me over his knee? Hmm?
What do you think?"

With a weary sigh, at odds with the sounds that brought him to this infuriating
point, he sat up and dragged the laptop back onto his knee and grabbed the
butter knife and set about rehousing the shift key.

"I miss magazines, puss."

*****