Double Trouble for @catting

[just_aces]

It wasn't often that Charles went to visit Port Townsend on his own, nor, specifically, the cannery and the Cat that lived there. But this was a special occasion, and time-sensitive, and on top of that their initial uneasy truce on Edwin's behalf had become something far more than that, though Charles didn't particularly think there was a word for what they were now.

Regardless of any of that, it was mid-morning in Washington -and evening back home with Edwin and Crystal off to a holiday market- when Charles stepped out of the mirror in the corner of the warehouse dedicated to their comings and goings, with a greeting of: "Oi, Cat." And upon realizing that the Cat in question was currently holding court, possibly, it was hard to say if the array of cats was some sort of official business or if it was just the usual, he amended to, "Your highness. You have a minute?"

The thing was, Charles knew full well that the Cat was a shapeshifter, he'd seen it in action more than once, and it had been months since Edwin had told him what had happened at the lighthouse their first time in Port Townsend, and while his initial, knee-jerk reaction had been upset, that had only lasted a moment before turning to curiosity, and when his next question had been 'well was he any good at it? Being me?' which seemed obvious to him, but was apparently not so obvious to Edwin, given the answer was a confused 'I suppose not?' Charles had put the issue to bed, at least as far as Edwin was concerned.

He had, however, kept thinking about it, the beginnings and bare tap-roots of a plan starting to settle into his mind, and now with Christmas, and shortly thereafter Edwin's birthday -which Charles hadn't yet given up trying to get him to celebrate- on the horizon, it was time to see if the plan was even a feasible one.

Comments

[catting]

"Well, the sight of it's pissed me off enough times that it's basically haunting me all on its own," the Cat murmurs against Charles' mouth, refusing to move back any further than that and risk Charles' chatterbox mouth deciding to rehash the whole conversation they'd hashed out when the Cat had last whinged about never getting to see the two ghost boys actually naked while he was often totally undressed within seconds of anything starting.

He pulls Charles in again with the two vantage points his hands have, but instead of just pulling him in so their mouths meet, he leans back even further than that, encouraging Charles to loom over him while the Cat gets his back flat on the desk. It's regrettably empty since he'd just poofed it out of thin air, but it delights him to think of Edwin's fussing were he to get his papers all mussed up from a heated makeout session.

[just_aces]

He was fully going to snipe back -mostly joking- that the Cat's arch-nemesis was an undershirt, but then he was being pulled more fully forward before he could actually form the words and he just rolled forward easily, hand releasing its hold of the Cat's hair to just brace flat against the top of the desk beside his head while the other continued working past fabric, skimming his hand around the Cat's side and then up along his ribs until he could actually get at a nipple, rolling it easily between thumb and forefinger.

Of course that was at the same time his head dipped to press a kiss to the underside of the Cat's chin, working around to the corner of his jaw and down the side of his throat even as he pinched a little more firmly, content to lose himself in the warmth of the Cat's skin against his mouth, at least for a little while.

[catting]

The Cat can easily feel Charles' amusement through their kiss, and has a cunning plan to get his teeth nipping at his tongue as retribution, but then he feels fingers against his nipple and he gasps, about the same time exactly as Charles' mouth moves away from his and starts to pick its way in soft kisses down his chin and neck.

"Mmh," He says eloquently, words trapped in his throat by Charles' rougher treatment of his nipple, the sharp pain-then-pleasure making his spine arch. In return he tightens his grip in Charles' hair, pulling as if he's about to force him back and away, only to flex his fingers and push him closer. His other hand slides around to join as his legs lift onto the desk properly, knees either side of Charles' hips. with one leg coming up to hook around him. And he makes sure to use the leg that would be closest to and in best view of the would-be mirror off to the side of the desk.

"Gonna bite me like I bite you, puppy?" He murmurs, trying to stifle an excited purr threatening to rumble through him. "Gotta make it believable, right?"

[just_aces]

Well that was going to take a little more concentration and focus than Charles was currently using, because while he and the Cat had similar reasons for and methods to biting, the weren't exactly the same, so biting the Cat the same way the Cat usually bit him was going to mean that Charles needed to change tacks.

It was, however, enough to make him grin down at the Cat, one brow lifting, "Think I might be able to manage that, yeah." The Cat had a way of biting to hold on -rather than nipping to tease the way Charles did- that Charles didn't generally employ himself, but thoroughly enjoyed when it was used on him, which made him confident enough to attempt it.

He rocked his hips forward in the easy hold of the Cat's legs, head dipping to pick up where he'd left off, except he set his teeth against the jut of the Cat's collarbone, not just pinching the skin and letting go again like he usually would, but actually holding firm, pausing only briefly to make sure he wasn't holding tight enough to do any damage before shaking his head just once, a solid little tug of movement altogether too much like a dog with a toy.

[catting]

The combination of Charles' hips crushing against his own along with the sharp shake of Charles head and the warmth of pleasure-pain that follows makes the Cat gasp, head falling back against the desk as his spine arches and then bows, like he isn't quite sure if he wants to get closer or pull away. It's been a long while since he's felt any rough contact like that, and while he hadn't really noticed the lack of it in any considerable way, now that he's in the wake of it he can't help but want more.

The canine aspect to it isn't lost on him, and perhaps it's that realisation that makes a light laugh cut through his breathless panting, makes him tighten a hand in Charles curls at the same time as his thighs tighten around his hips.

"Good boy," he purrs, knowing it's not as good coming from him as it is from Edwin, but knowing that in this context it's more than appropriate. He wonders, idly, how Edwin would react to seeing them get a little more rough with each other; Edwin himself doesn't like to be bitten, but he's never shown much aversion to watching the two of them kiss like it's an argument, often with more teeth than with tongue...

[just_aces]

Praise was always going to land differently coming from the Cat than it did coming from Edwin, but Charles was almost always going to soak it up like a sponge, and he couldn't help but grin against the Cat's throat, not releasing his tooth-hold just yet.

He'd made that same observation himself -that Edwin seemed to enjoy watching the two of them go at it in ways he wouldn't enjoy them going at him- and it was part of what had given him the idea for this in the first place.

It was the praise as much as it was the laugh -genuinely amused rather than outright teasing- that kept him from fighting the way the Cat was bodily keeping him in place, giving him just enough leeway to roll his hips again, pressing closer once more even as he tried to tilt his head into the hands in his hair without letting go of the Cat's throat in the process.

[catting]

When Charles doesn't let go and allows him this moment to sink in to the feeling of teeth in his flesh, a body over his, heavy and not exactly warm but definitely there — as much as a spectral being can be anywhere — he lets his eyes fall closed, gold disappearing behind the darkness of Charles' borrowed lashes, his hips rocking up at the very last moment to meet the low roll of Charles' own and pushing a loud gasp from the Cat's chest. It's a wonder he hasn't started purring yet, and the want to do so is a persistent ache in him, but he's dedicated to holding out, to playing his part in this little pantomime even if the intended audience isn't here yet.

And, speaking of playing his part, he tightens his fingers a little more in Charles' hair, a pulse of pressure beyond just getting a good hold on him, like a warning or a re-grounding, not entirely dissimilar to the way Edwin firms a hand on him when he wants Charles' attention, or when he's telling him off for getting carried away.

"C'mon, don't you wanna see if I've paid close enough attention to what you look like under all these annoying layers?" He asks, voice breathy against Charles' ear because fuck he sure knows what he's doing with the angle of his hips, somehow just as good against the facsimile of his own body as it is against the Cat's slightly larger form. "If we really wanna blow his mind, I think at least one of us should be looking more debauched."

[just_aces]

It took a moment to actually parse what the Cat was saying, and somehow Charles managed to wrangle himself around enough for a coherent response, licking over the spot he'd just had his teeth set into, "Just one. F'it's both of us he's going to think we don't want him involved." Which was the opposite of what they were planning for.

"But I am curious." The hand that had previously wriggled under the polo that mirrored his own only to find the undershirt there as well moved again, hand splaying comfortably against skin now that he could, just sliding a little higher -as far as the hem of the shirts against his wrist would allow- as he dipped in to claim another kiss, though he grumbled a little, "Going to have to let you up to get you out of this lot, aren't I?"

He didn't really want to move, partly because he was enjoying the kiss and the Cat's hand in his hair, but also because the rest of the position was comfortable as well, which did surprise him a little, since he knew how rangy his own limbs were, it didn't quite make sense that two of those would fit together so easily.

[catting]

"Good point," The Cat purrs, using his words to disguise the shudder that ripples through his body as Charles licks over his skin. There's merit to the idea though, of letting Edwin watch them get as far as he'd like them to before stopping. It would depend on Edwin's mood, how he reacts to this initial surprise in the first place, but it was definitely food for thought for later.

He kisses Charles back, even anchoring him down for another before he can properly move away because... well, because he can, before he grins against his mouth. If Charles is expecting the Cat to allow him to leave now that he's been pretty consistently grinding down against his hips, he's got another thing coming. He might not have claws in this form, but he can still knot his hands in Charles' hair to keep him put.

"Aww," He coos, smile sharp and decidedly feline even on Charles' features, though with his angles he looks a little more foxish than catlike. "You're so cute. You're not the only one that can will away clothing—" Using the hand that isn't wound in Charles' hair, he theatrically snaps his fingers to poof away the black woollen coat, and the first layer of jacket beneath. "—remember?"

[just_aces]

There was a quiet little curse at the tighter hold, not an objection, not really, but because he didn't have another response to give, skirting towards overstimulation already which was when he tended to get nippy, and he was trying to stay at least partly coherent so they could come up with a proper plan.

He couldn't help the soft laugh at the violet flare of the Cat's magic, head rolling forward even against that hand in his hair, brow resting against the curve of the Cat's shoulder, muffling a quiet laugh.

Getting ahold of himself again a moment later he lifted his head again, "I had forgotten about that, actually." He'd gotten caught up in the moment, the same thing happened with he and Edwin sometimes, they both forgot that they didn't have to do things the long way, and usually by that point they were both too worked up to manage vanishing clothes in full.

[catting]

The Cat looks pretty delighted at that admission, even as he pantomimes an offended gasp that Charles could ever underestimate him, even accidentally.

"It's pretty gratifying to know I can distract you so bad even when I don't look like myself. Mm, that's the one downfall in this little plan of yours, isn't it? It's all well and good trying to teach me what to do, but I've never been one to make it easy. And you're not the one who keeps us all on track." The Cat flexes his fingers, encouraging the polo shirt to disappear as well, pulling the exact face Charles pulls when he's done something and has caught on to how hot the Cat is getting about it — flexing his hands a certain way, making him wait for a kiss, using the deeper register of his voice... there's a few.

"I might feel good now, but if we take this too far you'll be back at square one. Which, I'm not complaining about, but we don't wanna get so into it that there's no room for the person this is actually in aid of, right?" The Cat might be an unpredictable force, a nuisance and a pest, but he's also a King. He's capable of some guidance, even if it's typically selfishly driven.

[just_aces]

"Right." He replied with a nod, just letting his own overcoat wisp away like smoke, "Still have to make sure he knows he's invited." A moment's consideration, having to rattle his line of thought back on track, which the brief respite was actually helping with even despite the fact that he was still caught in the loop of the Cat's legs, "Which I think means one of us down to skivvies, or nearly there, and the other one not that far yet."

He shook his head a little, careful with the Cat's hand still in his hair, "Don't think it really matters which is which if I'm being honest." Not when they'd both be wearing his face, at least to start, "Also means we're going to have to notice when he gets back, if we're too involved to notice, we won't notice if he's gone again, either."

[catting]

The Cat hums, delighted by the barely-there sensation of Charles' coat disappearing into nothing, and using that sudden disappearance to allow himself a quick once-over of his upper body with his eyes. Look, okay, he put a halt on them making out in favour of Charles' little plan, he should at least get some payback in the form of eye candy. In fact, he decides — sliding his hand out of Charles' hair to bring both around to his front, running warm palms up and against his chest, tucking in where his lapels fall to feel out his collar bones — he should get a good feel of it too.

"So, you do what you were doing before. Kiss my neck, or bite me, I'll keep turned toward the mirror and keep an eye out." A little shrug, as if it couldn't be more simple, and then the sliiightest tightening of his thighs. "I don't think you'll distract me so bad that I'll miss him arriving." And if it sounds like a challenge, well, that's purely up for interpretation!

[just_aces]

He leaned into the warmth of the Cat's hands as he usually did, just considering the suggestion for a moment before nodding, "That should work, yeah. And if I haven't managed to distract myself too badly, I ought to be able to hear it, too."

He'd definitely heard the challenge in the tone, whether it was there or not, along with the press of the Cat's thighs against his hips was enough to have him smiling down at the other again, "Though if we don't know how far is too far before then, we won't stand a chance." He leaned close once more, smiling against the corner of the Cat's jaw, the hollow behind his ear, voice dipping to the register he knew got the best responses out of the Cat, "Should put my all into trying to distract you now, yeah? Just so I've got some kind of frame of reference when the time comes."

That said, he left a string of open-mouthed kisses along the side of the Cat's neck, curious for a moment whether the other retained his own sensitive spots even in the new shape, or if Charles' own transferred over, reasoning that it was probably the first, since the Cat only looked like him. Which was what had him latching onto the jut of the Cat's collarbone, worrying his lower jaw against it a little, testing the hold of his own jaw, it seemed.

[catting]

See this, this right here is exactly the reason these two should not be left to their own devices to plan shit about dick. As soon as Charles' easy smile reforges in the new fire lit under them both by the Cat's challenge, it's surely too late to turn back. He smiles back, easily tilting his head to allow Charles to, presumably, press another kiss there... but when he pauses in the moment before he does and lets his voice dip to that smooth, burnt-sugar edges voice he knows full fucking well drives the Cat crazy, the Cat lets out a gasp of both genuine surprise and immediate and powerful arousal.

He groans, hands firming on Charles' shoulders, caught between pulling him closer and pushing him away, and then definitely pulling him closer. It won't do to give in so easily, not when he'd made the challenge himself, so he turns his head a little more to make it clear he's looking at that spot where a mirror would be in the office, and hums in faux thought, hamming up his attention being decidedly elsewhere.

"Mmm, y'know, I've been thinking about redecorating this place. Not too much, don't wanna attract any unnecessary attention, but I'm at least thinking some—" He mewls, much louder than he wanted to, spine arching ever so slightly when the flash of Charles' teeth against his sensitive collarbone catches him off guard. "—drapes…"

[just_aces]

He couldn't help but grin at the fact that the Cat had retained the spots Charles already knew about, which would make driving him -trying to drive him- to distraction just a little easier.

The real trouble would be if the Cat managed to drive him to distraction first, something that was always going to be a little tricky, especially when the Cat knew that those physical reactions -the arch of his spine, the tighter press of his fingers, the easy tilt of his head- were the kind Charles liked best, always liked knowing that what he was doing was having the desired effect.

He did release that tooth-hold, dragging his tongue across the same spot, amused by the rumble of the Cat's voice against his mouth, just making a quiet sound of acknowledgement at the half-broken statement, "Easier to be a nosy neighbor that way, having drapes to peer around."

[catting]

The release of Charles' teeth encourages a shudder from him, one that would have his fur standing on end if he were a being with fur at this current moment. It should be annoying how easily his body reacts to Charles' touch, but they've long since passed the stage of being frustrated and confused by their attraction to each other, especially when Edwin is mixed up in all of it, and so it's almost refreshing now to be able to sink into it like this and have it so well known that it can be used against him in a way that doesn't drive him mad. Or, it does, but not in a bad way.

"Mmh- Not that I have many neighbours who aren't dockhands, but sure." His hands slide down Charles' back in ten little points of pressure, not enough to cause any damage, but certainly enough to drag at his shirt, right until he reaches the hemline and tugs it out of the way, to get underneath it and do the exact same thing all the way back up to his shoulders "I meant more for the drama. A cat bed on a shelving unit is one thing, but it- ah, it's more mysterious hidden behind a curtain, right?"

[just_aces]

Some days Charles was surprised at how what had started out as doing their best to get along for Edwin's sake had turned into... well, whatever the hell they were doing now. Which was, arguably also for Edwin's sake, or would be when they put it into action. Right at that exact moment it was undeniably just for their own amusement, no matter what kind of spin they put on it.

He made a quiet sound of acknowledgement, even agreement, at that question, even as he rolled his shoulders up into the slide of those nails. Of course, even with his polo bunched up -and slowly fading off completely- his undershirt stayed solidly in place as it usually did, "Curtain's better for making a dramatic exit, too." He supplied, head lifting so that he could see the Cat's face, curious to see if the expressions were still largely the same even on his own face.

Though, given as how their expressions were often similar anyway, it might be hard to say for sure, "Like being able to slam a phone receiver down, yeah? Except it's with walking away. Door slam is a different thing."

[catting]

The Cat had been hamming up his comments about their surroundings in an effort to spur Charles more competitively towards undoing his mind (and, therefore, his vocabulary) with those little nips and kisses on his neck and collarbones... but, as Charles starts giving some actually pretty useful points about interior decoration and the way it can be used for the most drama, the Cat King finds his plan unspooling fast under his paws. There's arousal still burning low in the coals of him, obviously, but there's something warm like endearment or joy or... whatever the feeling is when you start to actually enjoy talking to someone you've spent a long time simply tormenting in some psychosexual pantomime because you're too much of a pussy to tell him you think he's cute in a meaningful way.

He laughs, hands pausing on the nice little dip in Charles' spine before his waistband.

"People don't slam phones down anymore, puppy. Cellphones, remember? Tapping end call doesn't quite have the same effect. And as a Cat I don't find myself slamming doors shut all that often, either. I'm more partial to pushing something off a table or smacking it under a couch never to be seen again." A pause, during which he thinks, but he also tucks his fingers in to Charles' waistband almost absently, as if his body is doing it without the input of his brain. "Though, the cannery does have a pretty dramatic sliding door."

[just_aces]

"Sliding door's a whole different kind of dramatic." He replied, blithely disregarding the comment about phones, they were both old enough to remember receivers and -probably- how sometimes with enough force and the right angle, the muted ping of the ringer.

His smile tilted into place once more at the almost-idle slide of the Cat's hands, and while one of his own was still keeping him mostly propped up, he settled the other at the Cat's hip again, just kneading there briefly. He felt like he should probably be annoyed, or even just a little concerned, at how endearing he was starting to find the Cat, it wasn't really that he could see what Edwin saw in him, because he was pretty sure that was wholly different, but it was something that dovetailed so easily into something Charles had learned about himself recently, namely: that he liked being friends with the people he had sex with.

"Though I got distracted with interior decoration tips and now I'm doing a piss-poor job of trying to distract you." The smile hitched higher on one side, "So that's a point to you, I think? If we're bothering to keep score."

[catting]

The Cat makes a little huffing sound at the contact to his hip, a barely restrained groan trapped behind his teeth, because it's wonderful and so very dangerous that Charles seems instinctually drawn to every spot on his body that makes him purr in pleasure. Even when his brain isn't fully into it, there are certain points on him that can have him hurtling back towards insistent arousal from the slightest brush of contact, and Charles seems to have a list of them memorised. Annoying. But also fucking wonderful. And even more annoying for how wonderful it is.

He turns a bit to catch that smile, unable to control an answering one of his own — a perfect copy, in fact, on this stolen face of his.

"Oh, I've been keeping score since the beginning. And, just in case you're curious, I'm way ahead. You lost a lot of points to me very early on."

[just_aces]

"Is that so? Then I'd best work on catching up, yeah?" His hand lifted from the Cat's hip to nudge at his jaw as he added, "You're meant to be watching the mirror." The nonexistent mirror, that Charles was meant to be distracting him from so that he'd know how much was too much when it wasn't nonexistent.

Though the move was also so that he could get back into the space at the Cat's throat, collaring him -in a way- with a string of biting little kisses, hand returning to his hip a moment later, by way of a slow drag down his side, just one slow-steady slide with his full hand before finally kneading at the Cat's hip once more, considering for a moment before wriggling his fingers up under the hem of the undershirt to drag the edges of blunted nails along skin from hip to navel just above the waistband of his pants.

It was the work of a moment to get them unfastened, that was one thing Charles had plenty of practice at, nimble fingers sliding down to where he could palm the Cat through his briefs, grinning against his throat as he did.

[catting]

That voice; that 'I might be caught out but I've still got an ace up my sleeve' voice, combined with the physical restraint and the nips to the flesh of his throat, do a pretty masterful job of both getting the Cat back to the matter at hand and making him wonder how much more of this teasing he can take before he's figuring out how to get on top of Charles and ravishing him himself.

His ruminations are stalled, however, by the flat of Charles' palm stroking down his side — and it is a stroke, the kind you might give a cat, funnily enough, that sets his purr hitching louder in exactly the same way. It leaves his flesh tingling pleasantly, and not just from the simple application of ghostly energy against somewhere sensitive, but because he can sense intention in that movement, and is therefore delighted when Charles' hand moves to the fastenings of his slacks.

"Oh, fuck, puppy—" It's actually embarrassing how hard he is already, from very little actual contact against his dick, just the two of them trading softer and softer barbs back and forth, daydreaming about their mutual crush making way for just kind of enjoying being together in this weird situation they've found themselves in... But still, he can't resist a little tease: "Try not to be too disappointed that it's not as big as you're used to feeling on me..."

[just_aces]

"Well that's hardly a problem," he replied, amused even still because the Cat was gifted and they both knew it, but Charles wasn't actually jealous about it, "I'm more familiar with this one, aren't I?"

Granted, he wasn't used to handling it from this particular angle, and he was going to have to remember that the Cat's particular sensitivities were probably all in the same places they usually were just on a more familiar surface. But neither of those things were enough to deter him, or even stall him out, just giving a slow, underhand stroke from base to head along the underside only to palm over the tip and reverse with a stroke down over the top side, knuckles brushing against the Cat's belly as he did.

"You're about ready to go off already, aren't you?" Not that Charles himself was that far off, all things considered, he was just good at waiting out his own needs until his partner -or partners- were satisfied. It was something Edwin had been trying to cure him of, with varying degrees of success.

[catting]

He is close, and a few well-timed strokes or a little tightness, or the feeling of Charles' teeth on his neck again, or some delicious cocktail of all of it, will surely push him right the way over, but he's got every intention to hold off as long as he can. That proves difficult, however, when Charles draws attention to it around a wonderful little back and forth of his hand against his arousal, and the Cat swears low and hard under his breath — because the question posed is reminiscent of the way Edwin asks it, and to be faced not only with the sound of such a question in Charles' deeper register, but with the idea that Charles might very well know him just as well as his annoyingly perceptive partner does is quite the realisation for a poor kitty just trying to hold on to composure for a little bit longer.

"No," he says, then feels the lie itch on his tongue, and he pushes a little breath out of his nose. "Fuck—"

He drags his eyes away from the fakey-fake not-even-there 'mirror', dropping the pretence of their pantomime for now because, let's be real, if this was taking place with the intention to be a prelude for pulling Edwin apart then they should probably keep their hands out of each other's pants, regardless of the flexibility of refractory periods when it comes to ghost boys and magical cats.

"Do I need to transform back into myself, or are you fine with seeing what you look like when it happens?" The Cat asks as a courtesy, because when he firms his hands on Charles' body, the one in his hair tightening demandingly while the other goes down to clutch meaningfully at Charles wrist, he means for his intent to be clear. "Because I want you to make me come."