Cay yelped as a massive paw curled around his side and yanked him closer. The wiry assassin proved no match for a determined Northern tiger, and in short order he found himself pressed up against the tiger's chest, held still by a pair of immovable fore-legs. The tiger chuffed into his ear, amused, affectionate, and Cay let himself laugh.
"Could've warned me, cat," he said, pushing back into the soft wealth of fur at his back.
Tor chirped at him and rubbed his cheeks and chin on the top of Cay's head. Cay laughed a bit more, softly, turning his head to bury his own face in the tiger's coat. He never thought of his all-too-human vulnerability when Tor was like this, trusting the tiger not to do him any harm; relaxed, rather, knowing that said tiger was extremely possessive of his well-being and more likely to kill anyone who dared touch him. And Tor was so very warm.
Something tugged on his hair, and a moment later he identified it as the tiger's tongue, rough and hot and incredibly nice against his scalp. His breath came out somewhere between a sigh and a moan as he went boneless -- he heard Tor make a huffing noise, probably amused, but couldn't be bothered to care as that raspy tongue moved down to his neck. If he'd been able he would have purred; as it was he sighed and hissed and occasionally whimpered his appreciation of the deliciously wonderful treatment. Tor was washing him, grooming Cay with the same painstaking care he took with himself, and Cay could do nothing but lie there and luxuriate in the sensations as the tiger cleaned his neck and shoulders, back and chest.
By the time Tor finished, Cay was nothing but a wordless, boneless heap. The tiger nosed him, and, when he didn't even pretend to move, rumbled and shifted, curling around him while tugging him even closer, until he was pressed so near that he was almost covered by the long, long fur. It fell soft and warm across the bare skin of his torso. Tor's legs held him still, possessive, protective and comforting, and Cay sighed even as the tiger decided that his head was in need of another bath.
He wouldn't trade it for the world.