just_aces: (devilish smirk)
[personal profile] 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.

Date: 2025-12-31 11:31 am (UTC)
catting: (thought i heard you call my name)
From: [personal profile] 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."

Date: 2026-01-01 04:30 pm (UTC)
catting: (thought i heard you call my name)
From: [personal profile] 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?"

Date: 2026-01-03 11:21 am (UTC)
catting: (cause i know all the ways)
From: [personal profile] 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.

Date: 2026-01-04 05:31 pm (UTC)
catting: (and i'm a damn good lover)
From: [personal profile] 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!

Date: 2026-01-05 10:47 pm (UTC)
catting: (love me love me love me)
From: [personal profile] 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…"

Date: 2026-01-07 10:51 pm (UTC)
catting: (and i'm a damn good lover)
From: [personal profile] 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?"

Date: 2026-01-10 01:05 pm (UTC)
catting: (i hope you feed me)
From: [personal profile] 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."

Date: 2026-01-11 02:21 pm (UTC)
catting: (you'll never meet another me)
From: [personal profile] 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."

Date: 2026-01-17 11:34 am (UTC)
catting: (Default)
From: [personal profile] 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..."

Date: 2026-01-19 09:55 pm (UTC)
catting: (Default)
From: [personal profile] 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."

Date: 2026-01-25 01:09 pm (UTC)
catting: (don't you know that i want you so bad?)
From: [personal profile] catting
Oh, that face. That annoying, frustrating, handsomely smug face. Just that look alone, much like Edwin's flat eyebrows-raised look, makes the Cat feel pinned and cornered in the best kind of way. He's not entirely unconvinced that the look alone is what makes orgasm so easy and so powerful when fraternizing with these maddening ghost boys, and the fact that it's happening again now when he's in this prone position wearing Charles' face with the man himself grinning easily down at him should make him burn with shame, but it only fuels the fire of desire in him that much more. That, and the fact that Charles' curiosity (another thing the Cat has to admit he likes about him) goes so far as to wanting to watch his face when he comes...

"Fuck, okay," he groans, performing a dramatic roll of his eyes as though Charles' expression doesn't lend a helping hand to getting him to his peak sooner rather than later, and releases his hand so he can make it happen. Then, he props himself up better on his elbow, eyes lidded, mouth hanging open — leaning in fully to the dazed, slack-jawed expression they're both capable of when they finally decide to slip into pleasure and shut off their busy minds — and nods.

Date: 2026-01-27 10:09 pm (UTC)
catting: (Default)
From: [personal profile] catting
The eye contact is intense, to the point where the Cat really struggles to keep it up as Charles starts to move in that firm, well-practiced way that so perfectly gives him exactly what he wants without once letting up. He flicks his tongue out to lick his lips as he feels them dry from the way he's breathing deep, trying not to think too much about masking his own expressions and replacing them with Charles' because funnily enough they do fall in the same area of reaction more often than not, and he doesn't want to ham it up and make it something that it isn't when Charles is clearly so interested in seeing it for what it is.

His eyelids flicker, his hips shudder with the contained effort of resisting allowing them to buck, but half pinned by Charles' body there's nowhere he could go even if he wanted to, so he simply writhes in place — and at the last moment, the very last moment the stuttering of a purr sounds from the very pit of his chest. The hand that had been in Charles' hair latches onto his shoulder, not trusting himself not to tense and pull in sensitive strands as he comes into Charles' hand, making a mess of his dusky skin, splattering up his chest, not stopping for a good half a minute or so before he finally, finally, falls back flat against the desk, chest heaving with breaths that hadn't felt important in the slightest until now.

Date: 2026-01-29 07:55 pm (UTC)
catting: (thought i heard you call my name)
From: [personal profile] catting
It's probably a good thing that Charles tucks his face into his shoulder when he does, because that tongue to teeth smile is so perfectly smug that it sets of stabs of both arousal and annoyance alight under the Cat's skin, and even though he's quite literally just reached his peak, there's very little to stop him dragging Charles against him in retaliation for it-- but then he's curling close, almost affectionate despite the fact that the Cat knows from experience that it takes little to get Charles hard and often only a few choice actions to get him to come, hair trigger that he is... It softens some of the immediacy of his desire, allows his mind to start to stretch like a cat in a sunbeam toward other ideas, other options — and, of course, the reason for this little performance in the first place.

"How do you want to end up with Edwin?" He asks, voice still breathless but clawing back some of his more sultry tones. After all, there's nothing better to get a guy hard than encouraging him to fantasize about his partner-wife-boyfriend and all the wonderful things they can do to him. The Cat has always wondered if Charles could come from Edwin's words alone, from his own horny imagination, from the encouragement or the demand that he do so. Now's as good a time as any, and it still technically counts as research to their cause. "Between us like this? Or do you think standing up? One leg around you, my hands holding him up and open?"

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Charles Rowland

November 2025

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