Coa Coa Butter Kisses

	He was like a shark in the water, the faintest hint of blood — or in this case, cupcakes — drawing him closer with every passing second. But what he didn’t know was that there was no way I was letting him have even the smallest bite. I was the one who slaved over a hot oven by myself all day to make them, and that’s how I intended to eat them; by myself.

	I shot him a warning glare when he’d crossed over onto the kitchen tile, but it didn’t seem to deter him any. My next response was to simply position myself between him and his quarry. This proved ineffectual as well as he’d resort to quite literally climbing over me to get at them.

	“These are Ice Bear’s,” I reminded him as I tried to shake him off.

	“Aww, but they smell so good.” I grunted and shoved him to the floor, neither the fall nor the menacing growl I offered him making that goofy smile of his any smaller. “Lemme just have one.”

	I commended him for trying, but held steadfast in my refusal to share, tucking the tray possessively behind my back.

	“Alright, fine. Half of one?” I met him halfway with a stern look of refusal.

“A quarter?”

	I snorted.

	“Fine. Can I at least have just one bite?” I had given him much the same response this time as all the others, but there was just something so disarming about the happy yet hopeful smile he threw at me right then that I felt almost powerless to deny him any longer.

	I tentatively presented the tray to him again and I couldn’t help but smile as well at the way his smile stretched wider across his face, making it seem as though I’d just put on some grand display. However, as he reached a hungry paw over and tried to service himself, I sharply smacked the appendage away before reaching for the tray myself and ripping him off a piece.

	He seemed almost afraid at first as he reached for the piece of cupcake in my claws, but once he saw that I intended to let him have it, he snatched it with almost surprising speed.

	“Thanks, bro. You’re the best.” As quickly as the delicious looking confection was stolen from my claws, it was gone, down my brother’s throat and into his stomach; I expected nothing less. These particular cupcakes were made with a recipe from a distinguished authority on cupcakes with only the finest of ingredients. “Oh my gosh these are delicious. Where in the world did you get these?”

	“Desert isle at Walmart,” I responded.

	“Man, those people at Walmart sure know their way around a cupcake.” He said as he got up and proceeded to lick his claws clean “Anyway, thanks for the bite, bro.” He said, turning to me and smiling. That was when I noticed something off about him — particularly his face.

	He was still flashing me that same, roguish, overly confident smile he normally did; but, I just barely happen to see it. Stuck right of center of his nose — sitting right at the curve of his maw — and I didn’t intend to walk around with it marring that adorable face of his.

	“Wait,” I croaked as he turned to leave, almost surprised at how loud it had been . He turned to me, his face curious and confused. I pointed to the side of my maw and was hoping he would get the picture, but he remained woefully oblivious.

	I pointed to my maw again, more insistently this time, and was relieved when he finally got the message and started swiping furiously at his own.

	“Did I get it?” I shook my head. Frowning in concentration, he focused his eyes downward, still furiously batting at the dollop of frosting. “How bout that time?”

	I shook my head again and began to walk over, chuckling inwardly as he growled and began to furiously lick along his bottom lip.

To his credit, he almost had it, but he’d only succeeded in moving the frosting from the side of his mouth, to right under his bottom lip. I stopped just a baking tray away from where he was standing, intending to reach up and take care of it only to find that I’d carelessly taken the tray with me, thus my paws were still full.

A slight oversight on my part, but an easily fixable one nonetheless.