HamsterWorld.

It was a lovely autumn morning on HamsterWorld.

Buckster had his cheek pouches stuffed full of sunflower seeds, and was trailing a small cart filled to the brim with ripe blackberries. He scampered into the multi-story, paw-built dwelling where he and Zeemster resided, hardly out of breath. His large expressive eyes were navy blue, and his fur was gleaming in the early morning light. As Buckster approached the door, he swished his tail, and wrinkled his whiskers.

Zeemster was further inside. Buckster could smell him even from the entrance way. He adjusted the cache of sunflower seeds in his mouth, so he could huff out “You still in there? Have you not even had a bath yet? You stink!”

Zeemster just hummed to himself as his clever paws worked on his latest invention: an intergalactic dimension hopper.

Buckster unhooked himself from his cart, emptied his cheek pouches into a dish and padded through their house to where Zeemster was: in the science lab they had built themselves, at the back, facing onto the little garden. Well, Buckster had done most of the work. Zeemster was the overseer.

As he approached the doorway to the science lab, the smell was even stronger. He looked in to see Zeemster clambering up the central contraption he was currently working on; a notepad in his mouth, a wrench in his left paw, his right paw clinging to the framework. His fur was matted in places, he hadn’t slept for two days, and his once bright sparkling eyes were diminished with overwork.

“Get the fuck down!” growled Buckster.

Zeemster stopped and looked over at him. “I just want to finish this,” he squeaked, the notepad falling from his mouth, and clattering to the floor. He looked at Buckster sheepishly.

“You’re in no state to finish anything,” squeaked Buckster more softly, moving in to retrieve the notepad. “You haven’t slept. You reek. You’re gonna make a mistake.”

Zeemster hung his head, his whiskers drooping, his ears lying flat. He began to turn so he could clamber back down.

“Come and have a shower, love,” murmured Buckster. “I’ve brought breakfast. You can finish this once you’ve eaten.”

Zeemster reached the ground and put away his wrench. He walked tiredly over to Buckster and they rubbed noses. Buckster gazed into Zeemster’s big brown eyes, now dimmed with exhaustion. “C’mon,” he huffed. “Let’s get you clean and fed.”

Buckster reached around and gripped the back of Zeemster’s neck with his mouth. He realised then just how tired Zeemster must be, because Zeemster allowed Buckster to lift him by the scruff of his neck and carry him into their bathroom. 

Zeemster was almost asleep by the time they got there, and it wasn’t that far away. The gentle sway of Buckster’s gait, and the warm safety of his mouth around his neck, lulled Zeemster into pliability.

Buckster gently put Zeemster down by their oversized bath and turned on the taps, letting warm water into the tub. He added some lavender smelling bubble bath, and swirled a paw in the rising water. Once it was about half way full, he turned around to find a slumbering Zeemster behind him. He smiled a toothy smile, and bent to pick up Zeemster.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. Just for a bit.” He nuzzled into Zeemster’s cheek. “I just want to get you clean, then put you to bed. We can eat later.”

“K,” mumbled Zeemster against his chest.

Buckster stood Zeemster in the bottom of the bath and let the warm soapy water spill around him. He picked up a sponge and began to wipe down his fur, untangling it and washing away two days worth of sweat and metal dust and electrical pieces. He picked up Zeemster’s slender pale feet and washed his paws, and in between his digits. He gently wiped down his tail, and inside his ears. He cleaned along his nose and whiskers.

Zeemster stood patiently and let Buckster wash him. He was too tired to speak, but he felt an upsurge of love for the gentle dedication Buckster brought to the task. He tried to communicate that with his eyes and whiskers.

The water lost the bubbles and began to look brown and blue and slick with oil. Buckster pulled the plug, and turned on the shower attachment, running it over his paw until it was the right temperature.

Zeemster watched the water swirling away down the drain. Then closed his eyes briefly as Buckster started to tenderly rinse him clean. Buckster only stopped when the water was clear and free of any grime.

Buckster rinsed Zeemster’s paws, and the tub as well, and then turned off the shower head.

“There,” he squeaked softly. “All done.”

Zeemster hmmmmed sleepily, and closed his eyes again.

Buckster stepped away to get a huge soft bath towel and began to dry Zeemster. Once most of the water was soaked up, Buckster put another towel on the floor and lifted Zeemster onto it. Zeemster kneaded his paws softly in the towel, and Buckster got a hair dryer and dried off the rest of Zeemster. The wind perked Zeemster up somewhat and he smiled over at Buckster.

“Thank you, my love,” he whispered, his eyes closed and his nose scrunched up against the stream of warm air from the hair dryer.

“My pleasure,” said Buckster, moving the dryer around and smoothing out Zeemster’s fur.

Once Buckster was content that Zeemster was perfectly clean and dry (and sweet smelling) again, Buckster moved to lift him up.

“It’s ok,” squeaked Zeemster, stopping him. “I can walk.” He did look better.

Buckster sat back on his haunches and tilted his head. “Hungry?”

“Tired,” smiled Zeemster. “I’ll have a little nap, and join you for lunch.”

“Good,” said Buckster. But he made sure to walk Zeemster to their bedroom and tuck him up with a little kiss on the nose and a ruffle of his whiskers.

Zeemster was asleep before Buckster left the room.

Buckster wandered back through the house towards the lab, and stood before the intergalactic dimension hopper that Zeemster was working on. He looked at it critically. Zeemster was doing a cracking job, of that there was no doubt. He was a genius. But Buckster just wanted to cast his eye over it. Zeemster could get obsessed and overlook things. A second glance wouldn’t hurt.

Buckster checked over the specifications and tested the metal framework. He glanced over the calculations, noticed a few corrections that Zeemster must have made in the night and double checked them to his own satisfaction. Everything seemed to be in order. Even when Zeemster was bone tired and working on fumes, he hardly ever made a mistake.

Buckster sat and washed his face and ears and whiskers. He stared at the machine in front of him. He wrinkled his nose, making his whiskers shake. It was almost complete. Zeemster just had a couple of adjustments to the dimension seeker part to make, and it would be ready for a test run.

Whistling quietly to himself, Buckster sauntered into the kitchen to have a late breakfast of fruit and seeds. He might make some muffins for Zeemster to eat when he eventually woke up. 

*

Buckster didn’t need excellent hearing to know when Zeemster woke up from his ‘nap’. It was late afternoon, almost sunset, when he heard movement from the bedroom and the patter of slender feet heading for the bathroom.

While Zeemster was refreshing himself, Buckster made scrambled blackbird eggs with mealworms. He took them to the breakfast table by the big glass windows, along with a pitcher of water. He added some nuts and freshly baked muffins, and a tall purple vase with a single curving stem of bluebells.

Zeemster came sauntering out of the bedroom and down the hallway. He sniffed appreciatively, noisily.

“Something smells good,” he squeaked. He made his way to Buckster and kissed him hello. His bright brown eyes were sparkling with mischief once again, and his whole demeanour was energised.

“My darling,” he squeaked, looking over the food on the table. “Thank you for this morning, and for this meal.” He kissed him again. “It looks wonderful, and I find I am ravenous.” Zeemster ran a paw appreciatively over the cascade of bluebells. 

Buckster smiled to himself. “Not surprising,” he murmured. “There’s plenty more in the kitchen if you fancy seconds.”

Zeemster looked over at him and nodded.

They tucked into the food with gusto and chatted about the intergalactic dimension hopper or IDH. Zeemster informed Buckster about the improvement he had made during the night, and Buckster suggested some refinements. They decided to finish it this evening. Zeemster couldn’t wait to try it out.

After their meal, they made their way to the lab and spent the rest of the evening adjusting their machine.

It was way past midnight when they both realised that it was complete.

There was nothing more to do, other than to try it out.

“Tomorrow,” squeaked Zeemster.

“Yes,” murmured Buckster. “Let’s sleep on it. We can try it out after breakfast.”

“I’m not that sleepy,” squeaked Zeemster, with that look in his eye.

“Oh, yeah?” squeaked Buckster, smiling.

“Are you very tired?” asked Zeemster, sidling upto Buckster and placing a fine-boned paw on his shoulder. He tilted his head at him, his whiskers touching Buckster’s own. Buckster felt a shiver run though him. 

“Not in the least,” answered Buckster, stooping to pick up Zeemster and turn in the direction of the bedroom.

“Excellent,” said Zeemster, running a paw over Buckster’s ear, making it twitch. “Then I shall make it my mission to tire you out.”

“You wish,” huffed Buckster, reaching the bedroom doorway.

“Indeed I do,” said Zeemster, kissing his cheek. He hopped out of Buckster’s arms, took his paw in his own and lead him to the bed.

*

The next morning rose bright and clear. Warm autumn light streamed into the bedroom, turning Zeemster’s fur to gold, and Buckster’s fur to bronze. Buckster woke first and nuzzled against Zeemster’s side.

“You ‘wake?” he murmured.

Zeemster turned to face him, smiling that smile of his. “Fancy working up an appetite?” he asked suggestively.

“Indeed I do,” said Buckster, inordinately pleased with himself for echoing Zeemster’s comment from last night.

“Come here to me then, lover,” squeaked Zeemster softly. “Wake me up.”

“I’ll make you squeal,” said Buckster, reaching for him.

*

So, they had a late, late breakfast, and wandered both happily and apprehensively into the science lab later that afternoon.

Zeemster handed Buckster a slim bangle, and clasped an identical one around his own slender wrist. They tapped them with their fine claws to activate the internal mechanisms and synchronise them to the IDH.

Zeemster stood by the central control panel and looked over at Buckster. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. His eyes were bright and his whiskers shivered with anticipation.

“Don’t mind,” Buckster answered, picking up on the energy Zeemster was giving out. He grinned.

Zeemster keyed in some information, adjusted some dials, then he stepped over to Buckster.

He kissed him on the cheek. “Ready?” he asked. Zeemster was brimming over with excitement, adrenaline coursing through his body. He nudged shoulders with Buckster.

“As I’ll ever be,” Buckster answered, deadpan. Then he shrugged, and flicked his tail.

Zeemster tapped his bangle. “Ok then, here we go….”

Light coruscated over the machine’s framework. Sound increased like thunder in the distance. Arcs of lightning sparked between the metal. Static electricity built up, and the fur on their bodies stood out like a halo.

Then…

Woooomf.

Time stopped. Stretched. Everything blurred. The background changed. Flipped through several versions, like scenes in a film.

*

Zeemster opened up his bright eyes to see he was standing on a bedside table by a bed. A large bedside table by a large bed. A human sized bedside table by a human sized bed. 

He looked around. There was no-one by his side. “Buckster,” he squeaked softly.

A form on the bed moved. A human in the bed turned over. A black and gold prosthetic arm emerged from the covers and pulled the sheet down a bit to reveal a human face.

“That you, Zemo?” the face said sleepily.

Zeemster stood stock still.

The human opened up his blue eyes and looked Zeemster right in the face.

“Fuck!” said Bucky.

“Fuck!” squeaked Zeemster.

*

Buckster opened up his bright eyes to find himself on a soft purple cushion in the middle of a mahogany desk. There was sunlight streaming in from the side. He was in a study of some kind. A large study. Everything was human sized. But that wasn’t what immediately captured his attention. 

Sitting at the desk in front of him, was an elegantly dressed human. Legs crossed, one elbow resting on the arm of his chair, his long-fingered hand thoughtfully rubbing his stubbly cheek.

“Well, well. What have we here,” said Zemo.

Buckster looked around. Zeemster wasn’t with him.

“Fuck!” he squeaked.

“Indeed,” said Zemo.

***