Jake, caught in the middle of a yawn, could only say "... aanh?"

"You." Matthew grabbed a battered tin ashtray off the nightstand and dropped it on the bed between his elbows. "Out." He lit a clove with a pop of his lighter. "Fucking." He dropped his lighter in the half-full pack of cloves and dropped the pack on the nightstand. "Room." Taking a deep drag on the clove, Matthew flicked a light dusting of ash onto Jake's furry chest, ignoring the ashtray he'd just recently claimed. "Now."

Jake made a horrible face and scratched at his fur vigorously, scattering the ashes onto Matthew's narrow bed. Matthew squawked in outrage and slapped at the ashes, sending them on a second journey to sift to the floor. "Motherfucker! Don't get ash in my fucking bed!"

"It's your own fault," Jake informed him, yawning again.

Matthew snorted and blew twin outraged streams of smoke from his nose. "Yeah, fuck, I know, everything's my fucking fault, I've got 'scapegoat' tattooed on my goddamn ass for the whole world to see..."

Jake raised one thick eyebrow and lifted his head up off the pillow, reaching down to dig short stumpy fingers into Matthew's bare ass. "Yeah? I must have missed that. Roll over and let me see."

"Motherfucker!" Matthew squalled, twisting halfway around to slap at Jake's hand, the cigarette poking out from between his fingers like a smokestack. "You ever cut those fucking claws?"