(no subject)

[no_sin_but]

Marlowe had been going to have a shower, because being clean was never, ever going to get old, but that than that dizziness had struck and he'd sat down, sharply, head in his hands, so when he turns into a cat, that's where his clothes are.

Yes, a cat. Long-haired, four-pawed, and he isn't sure which is worse - the tail, or the fact that he has both eyes. His balance is off.

Very, very off.

Give him sometime, and he'll be scratching at the door. Oh, yes, he will. For now, he's just going to sit there and feel very, very off-balance.

Not to mention very, very confused.

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[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"What are you doing in here?"

Good grief. You go to try and take a shower, and you find a cat instead? How very, very unexpected.

Someone very tall and Darren-shaped crouches down and offers the cat his fingertips, one hand still on the door.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"I live here!" Marlowe snaps.

Of course, it comes out as a faintly disgruntled meow.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"Who do you belong to, kitten?"

The fingers move tentatively closer. Darren's voice is softer than it's ever been with Kit as a human. Except maybe very early in the morning, or after the time or two they did have sex, before all this.

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

Kitten?!

He crouches down, watching Darren intently.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

"Shh," hushes Darren, and his fingers brush lightly along the top of the cat's head, not going anywhere it can't see them.

"Shh, now."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

That...

That feels okay. Nice. Good, even, and he's always been a sensual person, and he really can't help but arch his head into that light caress.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

Gentle fingers slip behind his ear, and scritch lightly.

"There now, my dear fellow, that's not so bad, is it? We still need to solve the mystery of what you're doing in our shower. Did Marlowe bring you home?"

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

"I can't bring myself, oh, that's nice. Do it again."

The meow turns into a purr, and Marlowe entirely loses what he was attempting to say. He's just, just...there.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

Darren keeps this up for a while. For when a cat is reduced to purring kitty-goo it is easier to scoop up and carry.

He's very good at this.

"Tell you what. He'll be by later and we'll ask him, won't we?"

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

Oh, Marlowe has entirely lost track of what Darren has said. The scritching is wonderful. It's better than a lot of sex he's had, and it's little wonder that he is soon reduced to that boneless pile of purring.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

And then he is scooped up, nestled against Darren's chest and arm, placed comfortably in the crook and Darren climbs to his feet and toes the bathroom door open, taking them out into the main room. And the best part about it there's lots of places on a cat that really enjoy scritching. So it's a very simple matter to switch from behind the ear to under the chin, while he walks, to forestall complaint.

"I wonder if you've been fed."

[no-sin-but.livejournal.com]

Oh, food. He thinks he heard that word, but it's hard to hear over his own purring.

If Darren stops, Kit is going to be a very unhappy cat.

[literallyrotten.livejournal.com]

Darren doesn't stop. He grabs a book and settles down into bed, cat on his chest, book over him, and (with practiced skill) manages to both keep the cat purring and flip pages occasionally.

All in all, a rather nice evening.