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Despite the lamb's best efforts, Narinder hated the rain.
Personally, the lamb loved it. It watered the plants, so the followers had to do less work. The days following, vegetation was abundant, and the grass glittered with drops like a thousand stars had descended onto the ground. Not even mentioning how beautiful the rain itself was.
The sheep, having a thick coat, didn't feel it sink into their skin, merely cooling their wool after a long day of the sun beating down on it. It grayed the skies, dimming everything to a much more bearable level of lumination than the typical light in the sunny clearing. Particularly young followers played in the turbid puddles it created, laughing and smiling bright enough to lighten the dimness of the clouds.
It was always a pleasant time for everyone when it rained in the cult.
Except for Narinder.
He hated the rain. It soaked his relatively thin pelt to his skin; making him cold and wet and miserable. It made the grass wet for days, getting his paws and ankles dirty with mud and wet with loose green blades that clung to the equally soaked fur. By the end of the day, everyone stunk like wet fur or feathers if they had them, and was unbearably smug if they did not. Most of the time, he refused to go outside when it rained. He simply sat in his and the lamb's hut and moped around.
One evening though, one where it had been pouring non-stop from sunrise to sunset, the lamb entered their hut to find Narinder not in it.
The lamb smiled as they closed the door, relaxed after a long day of work. The pitter-patter of the rain was muffled, only adding to the coziness. They frowned after a second though. It was dark. Weird, Narinder usually left the fire on during days like this, when he moped around in their hut instead of enjoying the rain (or at least tolerating it) like the other members.
"Nari?"
Their frown only deepened when their call was met with silence. Befuddled, the lamb decided to check the house. Maybe he had simply fallen asleep..?
He wasn't in the main room, the lack of a lump of blankets on the couch proved so. He wasn't in the bed (he almost never slept there unless the lamb was there anyway.); And even though it was useless, he checked the small kitchen they had anyway. It was mostly just used for tea. The lamb would be a bit stunned if he managed to fall asleep in the kitchen, but it didn't exactly sound impossible, per se. Alas, the kitchen was empty.
So where was he?--
As if on cue, the door opened, letting the sounds of the rain permeate the air again; and in stepped a sodden Narinder. He was soaked. He immediately shut the door behind him and flopped on the couch, not even bothering to grab a few blankets. The lamb sighed.
Narinder perked up an ear at the sound, begrudgingly peeking over the back of the couch and into the kitchen. The lamb was looking him straight in the eyes, a slight smug smile tugging at their lips.
"So, how was the rain?"
He faceplated into the cushions again. The lamb, their need to embarrass their spouse not quite satisfied, but quelled, went to gather blankets for him. Right now, they just wanted to be sure he didn't catch a cold. Stubborn bitch didn't listen to them the first time they warned him about mortal bodies being susceptible to illness, and caught a nasty flu. As much as the lamb wanted him to learn to take care of his own stupid ass, they didn't want said stupid ass to get sick over being out in the rain, of all things.
Picking the assorted blankets up off their scattered locations, littered across the room, they promptly plopped down next to him, a pile of blankets in their lap. Narinder didn't even cast them a glance.
They poked him, just trying to get something going. When that didn't work, they dropped the pile of blankets on him.
He raised his head as the first one landed, only to get covered in about a thousand more. The lamb couldn't hold back a bleat of laughter as their spouse let out a surprised yowl, very unbecoming of the grumpy act he was doing. The lamb decided to reiterate their previous question.
"So, how was the rain?"
A soaked gray head emerged from the pile, like a diver coming up for air. He looked at them, eyes narrowed. "You know how I feel about rain."
"That doesn't answer my question, Nari."
He huffed, shifting the mountain of blankets in a more comfortable way before laying down lazily once more, this time facing towards the lamb. Intentionally ignoring the subtle signs they had learned to recognize from their spouse, they got up from the couch to light the fireplace. Easy enough to start with magic, harder to keep going.
The flames eventually settled, a modest plume burning brightly in the center of the room. The lamb smiled at their handiwork. Instead of heading back to the couch, they decided to pick up a book from the two's ever-growing collection; commonly referred to as a bookshelf. They heard a barely audible, inward groan escape the cat. They barely maintained a straight face.
Still trying to annoy their husband into just asking for physical affection instead of stubbornly beating around the bush with subtle signs, the lamb spent just a bit too long at the bookshelf, humming to themself.
"Hey Nari?"
Narinder poked up, face impatient but hopeful.
"What book do you think I should read?"
Aaaand it was gone. His tail lashed angrily. The lamb smirked at him, grabbing a book and finally settling back on the couch. Narinder was visibly restraining from pressing up against them. They sighed, muttering under their breath before directly speaking to him.
"Narinder. We're married. You can simply ask if you want to cuddle."
Narinder blinked at them. Then again. His eyes were hesitant, but his ears were pricked.
It was getting unbearable, so the lamb swiftly scooted up next to him, resting their head on top of his before he could protest. Narinder flinched, taking a moment before quietly sighing in relief and nestling into the crook of their neck, the two pressed up against each other. The lamb set the book on the coffee table, deciding that this was more important.
The lamb gently put their arm around his shoulder, thumb brushing back and forth over his fur. It was damp, and certainly not in the state of great care it was in the last time the lamb saw him; but his short pelt dried fast, and was naturally very soft. Either way, Narinder wasn't complaining, so they could continue.
The lamb moved their cloven hand closer to his head until they were stroking the base of his neck, the cat gently rumbling with a silent purr. He must've been exhausted if he was already this comfortable. Or maybe he had just started to trust the lamb more. Either way, it was a pleasant surprise.
The lamb noted how cold his damp fur was, furrowing their brow.
"You're so cold… You sure you don't want to sit next to the fire?"
In response, Narinder lifted his head to look them in the eyes, trudged his legs out from under his own weight and the pile of blankets, and draped them across the lamb's lap.
The lamb scoffed, rolling their eyes. Narinder burrowed his head back into their neck, purring again. The lamb suppressed a squeal at how adorable he was, knowing that it'd make him all grumpy and probably squirm away.
They kept rubbing their thumb over his neck, hand slowly inching up his neck and towards his cheek. When they finally reached his jaw, scratching more than stroking now, his gentle rumble of a purr increased tenfold. He pressed his forehead against the underside of the lamb's chin, rubbing his fur against their wool. The lamb felt like they might explode from cuteness.
They looked down at Narinder, pressed up against them, smiling lovingly. The weight against their side, rumbling with each purr, was extremely comforting. They continued to scratch his face, all over his cheek and down to his chin. All the while, the purring increased in volume. They felt Narinder shift. The lamb glanced down. At this point, he was basically sitting in their lap. The cat's hand rested on his own leg.
The lamb used their free hand to reach down for Narinders, although they couldn't see what they were doing very well. Feeling fur, they gently closed their fingers around his.
Narinder sharply flinched, bristling. His purring slowed.The lamb looked down at their hand. It hadn't closed around his hand, instead, they were grasping his wrist.
"Fuck, sorry…" They muttered, pulling their hand away as quickly as possible. The feline exhaled a breath the lamb didn't know he'd been holding, relaxing his shoulders. The lamb's face burned with shame. They needed to be more careful about that, Narinder was still very sensitive about the scars around his wrist. They'd been engraved after hundreds of thousands of years of the chains digging into his skin during his imprisonment, and to say he didn't ever want to be reminded of that time was an understatement.
They scritched at his fur more, trying to make it up. He tried to say something, but it got lost in the rumbling of his purr, and came out a garbled trill, although he was still purring, so the lamb assumed they were forgiven. The lamb still planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, just in case.
The two of them sat like that for a while, the lamb alternating where they stroked their spouse. The lamb snickered inwardly.
"So, how was the rain?"
Narinder looked into the fire for a second, blinking.
"It… wasn't that bad, actually."
They paused for a second to register what he just said, only resuming stroking him when his tail impatiently flicked against their leg.
"Really?"
"Yeah. I mean, I got soaked, but it wasn't as bad as I remember it."
The lamb smiled warmly, pressing their head against his affectionately. Seemed his feline instincts were rubbing off on them, funnily enough. Narinder scoffed, still smiling. He could never be mad at his spouse, try as he might.
"You act like I'm breaking the laws of reality." He quipped, batting at his partner's ear. They smacked his paw back in retaliation; snickering at the remark.
"You are breaking the laws of reality!" They joked, pulling their head away from the embrace to look at their husband. "Everyone knows:" They began, and Narinder immediately knew he would be the butt of another joke.
"The sun is bright, the ocean's deep, and Narinder hates rain! Just basic facts, they teach this stuff to children."
"If you're teaching that to the children of the flock, I will claw out your eyes."
The lamb erupted into laughter, leaning on Narinder; this time they were nestled in his neck. Their shoulders shook, and they wiped a small tear from the corner of one of their eyes. Their lack of sleep was getting to them, and Narinder himself was found stifling a yawn.
The sheep's laughter quelled, nuzzling up to their husband's soft fur, which was dry by now. Both were too tired to even bother getting up, and wouldn't even think of trying to go to their bed. The fire crackled, casting a warm glow over the room. The rain thudding down on the roof picked up again, the noise creating a gentle background that made the couple even sleepier.
The lamb removed their legs out from underneath Narinder's, curling up in his lap, with their head resting on his chest. He was still faintly purring, and the lamb greatly appreciated the gentle rumble. It was soothing, quiet, yet perfect. They muttered sleepily.
Narinder tilted his head. "Come again?"
"Nari, you're perfect, y'know that?"
The feline embraced them, hiding how aflutter his heart got at those words. He composed himself, clearing his throat.
"Yes, lamb. You tell me all the time."
They huddled even closer, somehow. "I don't tell you that enough…"
Flustered, Narinder wrapped his arms around them.
"You can tell me about it in the morning, m'kay? It's late, you need to get some sleep if you want to run the cult like a sane person tomorrow."
The lamb absent-mindedly nodded, shifting into a more comfortable position for the night. Just before they fell into the night's grasp, the lamb reached up and gently pressed their lips against Narinder's, settling down and feeling unconsciousness overcome them.
They let it happen.