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]

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.

[just_aces]

Charles had only waited until his wrist was released, not fully waiting for that nod before resuming that steady stroke, the one that he liked just as much as the Cat did, something that Edwin had long since mastered, but that Charles wasn't slacking in, either.

Though he was definitely still watching the Cat's -his own?- face as he did, rapt in a way he wasn't usually unless he was watching Edwin perform some particularly complex magic, or take an especially condescending client to task.

Mostly he was curious to see if he could pinpoint the exact moment the Cat finally tipped over the edge, fingers curling just a little tighter on the next upward drag, thumb nudging against the smooth patch beneath the head of his cock in the way he knew the Cat liked.

[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.

[just_aces]

Charles wasn't entirely sure what it was he was looking for, but was definitely enjoying watching just as much as he was enjoying the way the Cat was writhing against him.

He didn't quite pinpoint when the Cat reached his tipping point, not before he felt the warmth of it against his skin and between his fingers and that was enough to make him smile, the tip of his tongue pressing against the edge of his teeth as he stroked the Cat through his climax.

While he couldn't be sure if he'd seen what it was Edwin saw in his face, it was definitely a thrill knowing -approximately- what he looked like when he finally tipped over the edge himself. It was enough to have him tucking his face into the Cat's neck again, just because he was going to need another moment or two to process, especially as he hadn't yet come himself which was just making everything more intense at the moment.

[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?"

[just_aces]

Getting Charles off un-touched and only talked through wasn't something they'd had reason to play with yet, though Edwin demanding that he finish, however gently phrased, was almost always enough to push him over the edge when he was already there by other means.

The Cat's question was enough to get a half-mumbled: "Oh bloody... fuck." against the arch of his neck where Charles' face was still pressed, though he did lever himself upright a moment later so that he could actually see the Cat's face again, "Between. Supposed to be trying to turn his brain off, yeah? Make sure he's got a chance to get lost in the game of it all. Easier to do that if he's got one of us on either side."

Even as he pictured that he grumbled, shaking his head, partly because it was enough to have him unfairly aroused, but also because of one simple fact: "Is he actually going to stay where we put him instead of taking over?" It wasn't a problem if he did, considering how much both Charles and the Cat liked that kind of thing, but it was a question that needed to be asked.

[catting]

That little groan into his neck is, quite frankly, fucking delicious. Charles' accent has always done things to the Cat - similar to the things Edwin's voice does to him yet still distinctly different somehow - and these low pitched curses are some of the Cat's favourites to hear. Especially when he himself is the cause of them. So his expression is understandably delighted when Charles cranes back to look at him, not entirely unlike the smug little grin he'd shown the Cat only moments earlier. A taste of his own medicine, though it might not have the same effect for Charles, owing to the fact that it's his own face looking back at him.

"Hmmmm," he hums, fingers dancing across Charles shoulder idly, missing his claws only now that he can't toy with Charles' remaining clothing, can't watch a ghostly flush appear and then disappear under the sharp edge of them.

"That depends. Do you think he'd be more distracted by me underneath him, grinning up at him with your face while you whisper in his ear, or do you think he'll be more captivated feeling your body him while I feel him with your hands?" He has no doubt that Charles can picture with stunning clarity the way that both options will look, and will be able to weigh up the merits of each despite how furiously horny it'll make him to think about. "You know him better than I do, but I think the best way to stop him from trying to take over is to make him not want to, for fear of missing what we'll do next, right? So what will catch up his big brain the best?"

[just_aces]

He could picture it, and his current problem was trying not to picture both at once, thoughts spiraling off into ever-hornier fractals while trying to focus on the task at hand.

But that in and of itself was enough for him to shake loose an answer to the Cat's question, "Give him a choice. Two options, nothing else. If he doesn't pick, we pick for him." Or at least make that claim, catching him off-guard was the important part, keeping him off balance so he couldn't wrangle control of the situation from them right away if he even managed to at all.

"Just those same two ought to do it." He said even as he rolled himself forward against the Cat once more, the movement almost idle, except for the fact that he was practically vibrating with need at the moment, the mental image -and the thought of how that same choice would probably fry Edwin's brain even worse than his own- was enough to send desire coiling in the pit of his stomach, cock already straining against his briefs, leaking an impressive wet patch already, given his propensity of dripping like a faucet at the least provocation.

[catting]

"Mmmhm, alright then," the Cat says, satisfied at the idea of staging a plan like this and just as satisfied by the little grind from Charles' eager hips. He can feel the shape of him even like this, and doesn't need to feel him to know he's wet for it. "Then we'll do that. And whatever he picks, we'll make sure he's so into it the thought of trying to wrestle any control for himself doesn't even occur to him."

Hard mode with someone as bossy as Edwin, but if there's any pair that could do it, these two with their powers combined have a good shot.

"Keep him nice and safe between us, tell him how we planned all this just for him, because we care about him soooo much, and we want to see him feel good soooo bad..." The Cat purrs, golden eyes in Charles' face flicking down between their bodies as his thighs hitch up a little more, to squeeze around Charles' sides. "So that when we're all connected, one of us fucking his hips into the other, he might not even shy away from overstimulation quite as fast as normal..."

It's a bit of a pipe dream to get Edwin to the point where he begs for overstimulation, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. But even if it doesn't happen, it's nice to fantasise about at this moment, where it's less about what's possible and more about what will get Charles off.

"Now," He licks his lips. "Do I need to say more naughty things to you to get you there, puppy? Or do you wanna fuck my thighs?"

[just_aces]

Somewhere between the hitch and press of the Cat's thighs and the delightful picture that he was painting, Charles hit the point of no return and almost didn't register the question over the rushing of his climax in his ears, one hand grasping more firmly at the Cat's hip as if for balance, taking a moment to actually parse what he had asked.

Once he managed that, he laughed softly, relaxing into the clutch of the Cat's thighs, "No, no need now. Anyone ever told you you're bloody good at that?" Charles believed in giving credit where it was due, even if it was due to the Cat and would -probably- make him unbearably smug for a while. That was the sort of thing Charles could deal with, doubly so when they would probably both be mooning over Edwin for the duration.

[catting]

The Cat's question being almost immediately answered by the shuddering tensing of Charles' body - the flexing of his ghostly energy, the clenching hand on his hip - produces a pleased and rather surprised gasp from the Cat, though he shouldn't be all that shocked; Charles isn't hard to set off, after all, he just didn't expect that to be enough to get him there. Good to know. Food for thought. Something to share with Edwin, surely.

"Mmm, I've heard it once or twice, but it doesn't mean I'll ever get sick of hearing it said again." He says, biting back his lip around a grin, golden eyes shimmering with delight as he watches Charles in the come down. He really is such a handsome thing, and the Cat feels pleased as he ever does that he gets to be close to him, to see him like this.

He wriggles a little, not because he's done with the close contact already (because the Cat is pretty sure hell never get bored of both touching and being touched) but because he wants to make a point of looking below Charles' waistline.

"Getting a pretty boy to come in his pants over me is a pretty big compliment, you know. And I don't even look like me, so I guess that makes it even more so. Or, maybe you're just vain."

[just_aces]

Charles couldn't help the laugh that curled out of him at that statement, shaking his head and stretching up to give the Cat a quick kiss before smiling against his mouth and replying, "It can be two things, aye?" So clearly he'd been picking up new slang from Crystal.

Which was beside the fact that Charles had never really considered himself vain in the least, though that was easily put to lie by just how careful and deliberate he was about his appearance on the regular.

He grumbled contentedly, giving the Cat another kiss before levering himself upright once more, hand sliding down the Cat's thigh as he did, "Okay, so now we know what's too far when the time comes, and we've still got time to practice." He arched a brow, "Which means everything else is playtime, unless you're done." It wasn't fully a challenge, but it wasn't simply a tease, either.

[catting]

The Cat does mourn the feeling of Charles' body on him when he straightens up, but the hand on his thigh soothes the sharp jolt that always spears into his heart at the end of things like this, when it's time for people to leave and contact to cease and quiet and solitude to creep back in. But it's been easier and easier to stifle that reaction when it comes to these two ghosts, who have each other and are so content with just that, and yet continue to seek the Cat out or allow him to curl his body around the two of them, meeting him not with placating niceties but even going out of their way to tailor certain things into situations as much for his benefit as their own. Much like this, and Charles' decision to involve him in plans for a doubled gift for Edwin (in more ways than one).

So, it's easy for him to make a huff of laughter, sliding the leg Charles has his hand on up to press a foot into his chest and push him lightly backwards. At the same time, his magic envelops his body and removes the glamour of Charles' features, replacing them with his own: golden and shining, broader and warmer, but with just as satisfied an expression as he'd worn before.

"Greedy puppy." He admonishes, but with no real bite. "Any more playtime and we'll be spending more time catching Edwin up on what he missed than we will getting to spoil him when the time comes. Besides, you know he'll want to know what you've been up to while he's been gone – do you really want to have to lie that much to him?"

[just_aces]

"It'd be half a lie at best." He countered, though he'd already rolled his shoulders to settle his polo back into place, "He's off at a holiday market with Crystal, and he knows I'm visiting, said I'd deliver your invitation to the holiday party, didn't I?"

He tilted his head, not quite a shrug, "'Course if he gets back before I do that'll take some more explaining, but not a lot more." He did shrug then, broad and exaggerated, spreading both hands, "But I understand if you don't want to take advantage, save it for the day of."

The thing was he did understand, even despite the tease in his tone, he'd be perfectly fine leaving things as they were now that he knew the Cat had enough fodder to make things interesting when they actually put this plan into action, just as he'd be fine going another round, since -by his reckoning- they still had enough time for one more, but certainly not two.

[catting]

The idea of that makes him smile, and though it's got every right to be a wicked little smirk considering the topic of conversation, it ends up looking much closer to something affectionate and fond. After all, it is kind of sweet that Edwin sent Charles off to invite the Cat knowing full well that the two of them alone often ends in them needling one another to the point of orgasm. Something something easily led astray. Edwin would be no doubt expecting to return home to the sight of Charles looking pleased and smug and, to quote Crystal, smelling like Cat even though, to quote Edwin, ghosts can't smell like anything.

"It's less about me not wanting to take advantage and more about me practising self-restraint," he says, sitting up and arching his spine, settling his body back into the realms of not being actively turned on, though there's always a little something residual lingering in him around Charles, ready to be activated at the first word. Hence the need for self-restraint.

"Besides, if I give you everything you want so easily and fuck you within an inch of your life every time we meet up, you'll start getting lazy. And I want you to work hard and earn the mind-shattering orgasms I give you." He grins, kicking his feet ever so slightly off the side of the desk.

[just_aces]

"Yeah, alright, fair enough." He replied to the first half of that statement, only to laugh outright, bright and pleased and -perhaps surprisingly- without a shred of malice or mockery at the second half, head thrown back with the sound.

He recovered easily enough, nodding and trying to bring the grin down from 'blinding' to just its usual brightness, though it wasn't an easy thing to do, "That's fair, too. I really ought to take every chance I can to be less impulsive. Might actually get round to learning delayed gratification one of these days, even." He could practically hear Edwin's 'good things come to those who wait, Charles' ringing in the back of his mind.

He shifted back just a little bit, letting his coat settle back into place again as his polo had done moments before, the hem swaying briefly as if he'd just swung the coat over his shoulders. He reached into the inside pocket to withdraw the actual invitation, hand-written on card-stock, and with a -likely hand-cut- scalloped edge, with the time, date and location of the party, as well as a notation that refreshments would be served, "No RSVP required, obviously, since we already know you're coming."

[catting]

"Let's not run before we can walk, puppy. You've already agreed with me twice in one breath, it'd be a shame to trip up when we're both doing so well."

Is it a little tease to cover up the fact that he's genuinely quite touched there's a physical invitation addressed to him? Even though there's no RSVP required and a verbal invitation would have worked just as well? Maybe. Hell, the Cat only needed to know there was going to be a party to somehow turn up uninvited, so the fact he's even being formally invited at all is a treat in and of itself.

He presses the invitation to his chest the way a maiden might with a love note, eyes getting tight though the colour of them is warm with affection.

"I'll start planning my outfit now. Is there a theme I should be aware of?"

[just_aces]

"Don't think it counts as one breath when you haven't got to breathe, mate." He replied, smile tilting into that half-smug smirk that he often wore, though he shook his head at the actual question, "None yet, though Crystal's been trying to sell Edwin on Ugly Jumpers, but considering we've really only just gotten him into jumpers in the first place and out of his usual outfit, I doubt it's going to work."

He shrugged, "Best we can hope for is he'll actually leave his Christmas cracker crown on for more than a minute, and he'll wear his hollyberry bow tie instead of one of the normal ones." 'One of' because Charles had learned early on that Edwin did have various textures of bow tie, incredibly subtle differences in pattern, and while he still hadn't figured out why, or on what occasions each one was used, just knowing it was enough, "It's at the office, though we'll probably wander off down the block to look at the shop windows at some point, so bring a coat."

[catting]

The Cat rolls his eyes so hard it almost makes him want to flatten out on the desk again, so to avoid that temptation, he hops off the edge and wafts his hand to disappear the furniture so that he's standing plainly before Charles as if nothing ever happened. He appreciates the sassy little comment, even if it's annoying. Because it feels normal and distracts him from getting too tender about the invite where teasing little ghost boys can see him. Charles and Edwin surely know how sensitive he can be about things like this by now, so it's nice that they let him feel his feelings in private.

"God," The Cat groans, clenching his teeth dramatically like he's trying not to gnash them at the thought of Edwin in an ugly jumper and a paper crown and a little holly themed bow tie. Which, honestly, he kind of is. "Okay. Okay, got it. Cute Christmas theme, warm coat so I don't freeze to death in your horrible little city, try to keep my hands off Edwin looking all festive. No worries. No problem."

[just_aces]

"Only have to keep your hands off him any more than the usual amount, at least during the party, we already know what the plan is once he gets back from taking Crystal home." A plan that would hopefully lead to the both of them getting their hands absolutely all over him, but that was something Charles wasn't going to let himself think about too deeply right at the moment as it would just derail the whole trying not to be impulsive thing he was working on.

Another warm smile, "I'll leave you to it, then, if I don't pop round beforehand to tell you we've got a theme, just plan for not having one, and I'll see you there." He leaned in to press a quick kiss to the Cat's temple before stepping back giving a jaunty wave and disappearing back through the mirror he'd stepped out of in the first place.

[catting]

The Cat sits there, full of roaring attraction and frustration about said attraction cropping up just from that stupid wave, and turns his back on the mirror with a quiet grumble before shaking the thought from his head, and setting to work.

On the date given on the invitation, the Cat arrives in the pokey little corridor outside the offices of the Dead Boy Detectives, late by a fashionable five minutes, dressed in a deep burgundy shirt with a golden bow around the collar, a pair of flared trousers with a skirt bustle clipped to the belt to elongate the silhouette, and silver pointed-toe shoes poking out beneath the hemline. His coat is red with white fur around the trim, and it's covered in a slight dusting of snow, which is absolutely performative given that it's snowing in neither Port Townsend nor London right now.

He lets himself in through the door without bothering to knock — he has an invitation, after all; a physical one and everything — and delights in the little tinkling of the old-fashioned bell that heralds his arrival. Thematic and appropriate. Not knowing what to expect, what kind of clientele they've invited to this particular party, and unsure of how many familiar faces he'll find, he looks for the three he knows the best, and smiles.

"Sorry I'm late." He's not.

[just_aces]

The office hadn't been transformed, it was still most definitely the office, but there was a small tree sitting on top of one of the low shelves, a silver tinsel thing probably circa the mid 60s, as it also had a four-color pinwheel light pointed at it. The ornaments on the tree were eclectic as anything else the boys had collected over the years, with no discernible style or pattern to them.

Crystal's contribution -besides the snacks- was an incredibly mis-matched Nativity Creche under the tree, apparently made of single figures from at least a dozen different sets. There were also actual evergreen boughs hung over the doorway and the window, decked with broad red bows.

It wasn't a large crowd -the office simply wasn't big enough for that- but it was their nearest and dearest, as it were. The beekeeper -in rough-spun robe and wicker mask- was just preparing to leave as the Cat was arriving, giving a silent nod in passing. There was also a pair of women, the redhead was somewhere around six foot four, her thick braid decked with Christmas roses and holly leaves, the other one barely crested five foot tall, her pouf of black curls held back from her face with a red satin headband with a massive poinsettia on it, the pair of them conversing with Crystal near the snacks.

Edwin -as Charles had predicted wearing his holly bow tie- was having a spirited discussion with probably their oldest friend, the bookseller from down the way, a young man who looked barely older than the boys and who would have made an excellent Puck -or even Ariel- if he'd gone into theatre instead of bookselling.

Charles, who had been seeing the beekeeper out, beamed at the Cat's arrival, "There he is." He caught the Cat's elbow gently, "Right, so the one just left is the beekeeper, they're just making the rounds, and that's Arthur probably having the same argument he and Edwin have every Christmas, over with Crystal that's Bunny and Alexis, and I can let you guess which one's which if you like, or I can just tell you, though they like watching people guess."

[catting]

The Cat isn't exactly surprised to see no one he knows here aside from the titular detectives and their little psychic add-on, but the sight of such variety definitely takes him aback for a moment. He's regained composure by the time Charles takes his arm, so it doesn't last for long, and he listens with large, curious golden eyes scanning about the room as guided by each introduction.

He's intrigued, as he always is, by the sight of unfamiliar faces, but being a creature like the one he is who normally exists in the shadows has him feeling slightly on the backfoot. So, he loops an arm through Charles' elbow, claws drumming his sleeve, and gives the ghost a little raised-eyebrow look.

"Quite the turn out. Is the taller one Alexis?" He asks idly, scanning around for all the things he normally scans around for even though he's been in this office thousands of times by now; window, comfortable place to sit, dark shadowy spot, Edwin, Charles. Though that last one is simply a convenient excuse to look back at the boy in question. "And... it must be a fucking thrilling argument to want to rehash it every year."

[just_aces]

"Something about Sir Gawain and the Green Knight," he shook his head, "I've given up trying to figure out exactly what it's all about, and this is the only time of year they have it because they spend the rest of the year coming up with new theories, I used to think it was flirting, but they're really just trying to outsmart each other, somehow, and honestly they just both like the discussion."

The smile returned as he steered the Cat towards the trio near the snacks, "And got it in one, Alexis, Bunny, this is the Cat King of Port Townsend, in Washington." Up close it was easy to tell that the Christmas roses in Alexis' braid were actually growing there, the vine wound into the plait like a ribbon, there was also the tingle of nature magic around her. All Charles knew was that she wasn't fully Fae, though he wasn't sure what else she was, but she got decidedly Scottish when she got worked up about anything -angry or delighted as Charles had learned- and that amused him to no end.

Bunny on the other hand was exceptionally French, though she, too, was Something Else as well, skin a little too pale, fingers -or maybe just the nails- a little too long, eyes depthless-dark, but she offered a hand, smiling almost as brightly as Charles did, though it was all cold moonlight where Charles' was sunny as anything, "Petit Lapan, a pleasure your majesty."

[catting]

The Cat considers an argument that trying to outsmart someone kind of is flirting for someone like Edwin, but he figures Charles of all people would know if there was anything more than the surface-level smart person dick measuring going on. If the three of them didn't have the relationship they have, the Cat might have even needled Charles about being jealous, but given that these two ghost detectives seem to have one of the healthiest relationships he's seen for a very long time, the Cat keeps his pretty mouth shut.

Ever the sucker for a pretty face, especially two of them and especially ones brimming with magic like these ones are, the Cat King takes up the offered hand and lays a kiss to her knuckles.

"Charmed," he says, golden eyes sparkling with that intense kind of interest he shows everything new and nice to look at, before sliding it over to her companion and nodding his chin in a polite little bow in case she's not the hand kiss type. "And Merry Christmas, too, right? Since that's why we're all here."