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It was no secret Scaramouche wasn’t like most.
He was cruel, aloof, diabolical, and all around what many would consider an unpleasant person to be with. He was a loner, one may say.
But there’s a reason he is like that.
Under the hat he wore and hidden by his clothes were features not many would consider “human”. They were more...animal-like. Specifically, he had not only the attitude of an annoyed cat, but the looks of one as well.
With his ears and tail hidden as often as he could, he kept his species a secret. For the most part, it worked fine. No one knew. That is, until a certain coworker of his noticed something oddly unusual.
Scaramouche and Childe were sitting by a Cuihua tree on their break, the other munching on a fresh sunsettia and himself taking bites of a sandwich he had hastily made.
They’d been eating in silence, save for the crunch of the crisp sunsettia, until Scaramouche felt a long and powerful gust of wind pass by. He had been so caught up in his thoughts about everything from future books to meetings scheduled that his hand didn't react fast enough to keep his hat steady.
Alas, the world is never fair.
Unfortunately, he also forgot that Childe had been sitting next to him the entire time.
When he realized what had just happened, he dropped his sandwich and froze in place.
Childe kept on shifting his eyes from the hat to Scaramouche back and forth as his mouth was slightly agape. He was silent, and there was a strong line of tension between them.
Shit.
Scaramouche felt his face heat up in embarrassment and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man. His secret was out.
There was a long moment of no sound until Childe finally broke the staring contest. His agape mouth formed a smirk as he crossed his arms. Leaning onto Scaramouche’s shoulder--to which he moved away from--he laughed. “So this is why you wear your hat so much?”
Scaramouche’s fists formed and a small crackle of lightning danced around.
“If you dare mention this to anyone, I will murder everyone you love.”
Childe only snickered at that.
“What’s so funny?” the shorter glared.
“Ah, nothing, nothing. Just thinking about how now I have a little cat all to myself~”
“What,” he spat.
“You know, you’re a lot cuter than you already are with those fluffy ears and, let me guess, an equally fluffy tail?” Childe smiled deviously.
Scaramouche had to bite back the urge to kill him right then and there. No way is this guy going to think of him as some sort of pet. Not to mention that disgusting “compliment”.
“Like I just said, if you dare mention this to anyone in the world , I will electrocute your loved ones until they’re charred black and then rip them down to their bones so you’ll always live in regret .” He was dead serious. He would gladly go to such lengths over this.
“Who said I was going to tell someone?” the ginger slung his arm around Scaramouche’s shoulders, his arm grazing over the back of his neck so lightly he felt he was going to explode before pressing roughly. “Maybe I just want to keep this little kitten all for myself.”
Before Scaramouche could refute, he felt an unfamiliar yet missed sensation of his ears being gently rubbed between someone’s fingers. He couldn’t bite back the purr from inside him as he leaned into it.
Childe laughed. “Ahaha! Aww, does my little Scara enjoy his ears being rubbed this way?”
Scaramouche was snapped out of his senses by that comment and slapped the hand away. He covered his ears with his own hands and dug his face into his knees. Fuck the wind and fuck the world.
“Ooh, does that mean you react like a cat when I touch other parts~?” Childe leaned over and brought his face to Scaramouche’s neck. With a gentle rub by his nose and the intake of air, Scaramouche felt his senses highten and barely managed to contain the mewl that threatened to escape him.
He shoved Childe’s face away from him with sharpened nails.
“ Stop .”
He laughed again.
“Sure, sure. I’ll keep it to myself. But I will say that I wouldn’t mind getting to know this side of you more.” Childe propped his head in his palm and picked at his nails, still admiring his features.
Scaramouche groaned and stood up. He walked over to his hat, picked it up, and returned it to its rightful place on his head.
“Not a chance in the world.”
Turns out, there was a chance in the world.
It had been a while since the incident and Scaramouche despised how it got them closer. Every now and then Childe would pull him aside when no one was looking and fondle his ears, gently rubbing the fur in such a way it brought him peace.
He hated that.
Along the days it would become more and more frequent, even getting to a point where Childe invited him over just to pet him. Said man claimed that "it was his right as an owner to treat Scaramouche the best he could."
Sometimes, Childe was an annoyance.
Other times, when they were alone, he was quite pleasant to be around. Scaramouche would let his tail swoosh around as Childe petted him and he could never stop that purr from escaping his body.
One time, Childe asked something.
"Hey, what would happen if I petted your neck? Or like, scratched it or whatever. My sister had a cat that absolutely adored pets like that. I wonder if you're the same way…"
Scaramouche scoffed and crossed his arms. "No, I'm not. Not all the things about me are identical to a cat. That's incredibly dumb of you to think that."
"Oh, yeah?" Childe pulled him close to his chest from his original position on his lap, his strength far better than Scaramouche could ever achieve. "Then how come when I first met this side of you your breath hitched when I rubbed my nose into your neck?"
"H-hey, what are you doing? Stop--"
Childe brought his face over to his neck and, just like last time, a gentle rub made Scaramouche's senses sharpen.
"And what if I were to bite it ? Cats tend to freeze when they're bitten there. Perhaps you are the same."
"Childe, stop n--" As Childe bit down on his scruff he let out a mewl. Worse, that mewl turned more into a moan. His head leaned back against Childe's face.
Childe let go of his neck and Scaramouche regained whatever breath he kept inside.
"Whoa, did you just, like, moan or something?" Childe laughed as he loosened his grip. Scaramouche's blood began to boil.
"Have you gone mad ? Of course I didn't," he denied as he shoved his palm into Childe's face. His tail began to thump against the other's leg and his ears bent back. His face, bright red, was twisted in disgust.
"Nah, I'm sure you just moaned, pretty kitty," Childe managed to say.
" P-pretty kitty?! What the fuck does that mean?"
The taller grinned deviously as he tended to do.
"Well, you're a kitty and you're pretty. Self explanatory."
Scaramouche groaned and got up. He rubbed his neck. It didn't hurt, but what had just happened was, in a way, both disturbing and craving. He hated how Childe had that effect on him. One minute he's charming and the next he’s diabolical in ways Scaramouche still couldn't comprehend.
"Whatever. I'm leaving. Don't talk about this to anyone."
He tucked his tail into his shorts and placed his hat on his head.
"You're not gonna tell me not to do it again?" Childe had the guts to sound amused.
Scaramouche was slow to respond. "Shut up."
He left that day and despite how he wanted more, he denied that feeling in favor of others.
Childe didn't mention it to anyone nor did he bite Scaramouche's neck again. It took a few agonizing months when they were alone once again that Scaramouche brought it up.
"Hey," Scaramouche turned his head slightly to the man he was currently sitting on as they usually did.
Childe stopped petting. "Hm? What's up, my kitten?"
Gods, the nicknames just won't stop.
There was a short period of silence, but it felt more like a millennia.
"Bite my neck again."
Childe snorted, then chuckled. "I thought you didn't want more. But just to hear my darling, I'll do it again."
Scaramouche prepared himself for the bite, but instead it started with a nuzzle. His breath hitched up as Childe's hands also glided their way up to his collarbone and traced the dip in the middle, before continuing upwards until they reached his neck. Gently, he began to move his hands up and down from Scaramouche's neck to his chest, caressing it in such a way it made him go mad.
"Mmm…" Childe hummed, "You like that, don't you, my pretty little kitty?"
He wasn't even biting his neck yet and he already felt like he was going crazy. Quickening breaths and heavy anticipation was all he could think about. To have such a way with movement and words will never be something Scaramouche can accomplish in his future years of living.
Finally, Childe bit down on his excess skin, slightly harsher than before, but not nearly enough to tear it. And, once again, a moan left Scaramouche and he felt the world fall under him. All he could register was that sensation, it sent waves of pleasure up and down his body.
Childe kept on nibbling as Scaramouche's breaths became more like pants. Never in his life had he felt this way. Every now and then Childe would hum against his skin which only amplified the feeling of ecstasy. Scaramouche gripped onto the fabric of the other's pants, his back arching and his tail swishing from side to side.
Another embarrassing moan was let out. His panting became even heavier by the second. His face, hot and flushed, was unable to see whatever face Childe was making, but his mind was already occupied. Childe's left arm wrapped around his torso and brought him closer while the right gently pushed his neck back into his mouth.
He guided the other to turn his neck as he moved to a different spot. It wasn't too far to the side, but enough for more space.
Scaramouche could hardly breathe. The moans he let out wouldn't stop, and he didn't bother holding them back. He could hardly keep his eyes open. Gods above, this combined with having sex would be a nightmare of pleasure.
Childe stopped after a long while. He pulled a heaving Scaramouche forward and laid them both back onto the bed. He turned both of them to the side and dug his face into Scaramouche's sweet smelling hair.
“If you kept on moaning like that, I'd get hard," he mumbled with a chuckle.
Scaramouche was still regaining his breaths, like he had just done a marathon. He didn't respond to the comment.
He drifted off into his dreams with the help of gentle ear rubs.
They began to rinse and repeat the event, each time getting more and more hot. Scaramouche stopped demanding and simply leaned his neck inwards to Childe's chest. Every time, Childe was more than happy to bite just to hear Scaramouche and his moans of pleasure.
After a month of their makeshift once or twice a week schedule, Scaramouche ended up fondling Childe’s growing bulge. Whether it was an accident or not will remain a mystery.
No matter, that fueled Childe to continue even more. His bites became more like hickeys, and each time Scaramouche would moan like he was being fucked silly. His eyes would roll back and his tongue would stick out just a bit.
Childe knew that it made him feel so good he wanted more, and Childe gave that to him.
He began circling his thumbs around the other’s nipples, amplifying the sensation even more. Scaramouche was beginning to get hard himself, and Childe knew it.
At one point, Childe had stopped midway. He was already painfully hard; Scaramouche’s hands could do wonders around the confines of clothing.
“Hey,” Childe started, his voice husky and quiet, but right in Scaramouche’s ear. His breath made Scaramouche shiver. “What if we...took this a step further, hm?”
“Do it,” Scaramouche was quicker to respond, his body already yearning for more than just bites. As much as he loved them, he wanted more of his body to be touched, not just his chest and neck.
Childe laughed through his nose. No more words were needed. He pulled off Scaramouche’s shirt for more access to his torso and sunk his hand down into his shorts. There was no surprised sound when Childe felt how hard he was. Scaramouche quietly moaned through the touch as he ground his ass over Childe’s bulge. The other hand made its way back up to lightly pinch the older’s nipples, earning a more prominent moan. When Childe continued to bite his neck, it got worse.
Scaramouche let out an increasingly loud moan at how many sensations were happening at once. He felt like he was going to cum on the spot. The more touches the more sensitive he became.
Without letting go of his neck, Childe flipped them both over and pulled off Scaramouche’s shorts, feeling how the other’s tail would wave side to side. He scratched at the base where skin met fur, which only made Scaramouche lift his ass up more.
Childe unbuttoned his red shirt and tossed it aside, then unzipped his pants. His erection popped out and was already leaking onto the smaller’s skin.
The ginger began to lick the back of Scaramouche’s neck, soaking in the scent, as his hands moved from his shoulders, around every curve, and to his waist. He massaged the hips as he rubbed his length along the divot between his cheeks, grazing over his asshole teasingly.
Scaramouche leaned back in a poor attempt at gaining friction, but his mind was more caught up around his neck than below. Childe went back to biting down on his reddened scruff as he continued to move his dick back and forth, rubbing his precum over Scaramouche.
Scaramouche could hardly breathe. And this was only just the beginning.
Childe leaned his face right to Scaramouche’s ear and said, “Be a good kitty and take my entire length, okay?”
With that, Childe let his dick sink into Scaramouche’s unprepared, tight hole. It burned like he was on fire, but he knew he would get used to it eventually. It was only halfway in when he felt it touch his prostate. With a near scream of a moan, his nails dug into his palms and his toes curled. Childe’s teeth were back onto his scruff, breathing slightly heavier than usual.
“Ah...Hah...Childe…~”
That was the first time he had ever moaned out his name, right after his entire length was in. There was a chuckle from behind as Childe brought his face to his ear again.
“I own you, you’re my kitty. Why don’t you call me Master?”
Scaramouche couldn’t think straight. Childe began to move, painfully slowly, back. He was almost entirely out before picking up the pace and slamming back in right onto his prostate. Scaramouche moaned the loudest he’s ever had in his life.
“Angh~ M-ah!-ster~!”
“What a pretty meow you have, my little kitten. You’re such a good kitty. So perfect for me…~” Childe hummed into his abused neck.
Scaramouche never thought of himself as the submissive one, but the feeling of someone controlling him felt too good to be true. To be a pet, a little animal doing whatever their master ordered them to do, was exciting.
The taller one circled his thumbs around the base of his tail again, giving him more access to his body. His licks and bites were mesmerizing and addictive. Scaramouche wanted more and more.
His moans, gasps and pleads for more from his master persisted. All he could feel was ecstasy and wanting.
Scaramouche released not too long after they started. His body shivered and writhed as his tail whipped around Childe’s hand, which had grasped it to keep it from whacking him. As he attempted to calm down, Childe pinched his neck and moved his face to Scaramouche’s ear, licking around and biting lightly. While his ears weren’t nearly as sensitive as his neck, he was still overcome by the lewd sounds of Childe’s tongue against his soft ear, its slick feeling paired with the pinch and the dick still pounding him becoming too much to bear.
Childe’s own groans and the occasional praise rang through his brain, making the feeling even more vibrant. Mumbles of how perfect he felt or how he was such a pretty kitty or even how he was doing a good job racked his mind. All the pleasure wouldn’t stop.
It took Scaramouche cumming two more times for Childe to finally release. He filled Scaramouche so much he felt like he was going to explode. Scaramouche’s voice had become so weak from the constant mewls and moans he could hardly speak, only pant.
“My sweet kitten, you did such a good job. You were so good to me. What a beautiful kitty,” he praised as he petted the other’s hair and ears. He hadn’t pulled out yet, keeping himself inside even while flaccid. Scaramouche purred and while still attempting to regain breath, he managed to pull a small smile.
“I...I’m glad, M-Master,” he managed to say, breathing heavily as he did so. Even while tired, Scaramouche could still move his hips back, attempting to reach Childe more.
“Hm? Does my sweet kitty want more?” Childe smiled, his dick already twitching. “You’re going to need to beg.”
“P-please, Master. I’m a good kitty, please more… I-I need you, Master…~” Scaramouche could hardly believe he was begging. But something that felt this good, he didn’t want it to leave yet.
Childe’s member was becoming hard again, painfully hard. He sank back in until he was even more deep, the cum seeping around him.
“Since my pretty kitty begged so nicely, and you’ve been so good, I’ll gladly give you another treat.”
Now fully hard, he filled Scaramouche even more, backing up and slamming in at full force again and again. If this went farther Scaramouche could become addicted. It felt so good to be called a good kitty, to be called a pet, he felt so strangely happy when he was referred to as such.
His neck, thoroughly abused and red, felt even more sensitive. So when Childe bit down once again, he found enough voice to moan.
Childe continued pounding again and again, just like Scaramouche had begged him to do. The entire time Scaramouche let out moans that were more like screams, cracking like the lightning he bared.
“You’re such a good kitty, my sweet kitten Scara…~” he would murmur into the other’s skin. Scaramouche could hardly think, the only things he could slightly process were the pounding, whispers of praise and, of course, the biting that kept him from speaking normally. The only words he managed to say were “Master” and “more”.
They came again, more in sync this time around. Childe left one hand on Scaramouche, but didn’t pull out yet. As Scaramouche began to come down from his constant high, Childe reached for a drawer in his left dresser. There was a shuffling sound, then Scaramouche heard something that sent shivers down his body, for more than one reason.
“My sweet kitten... As your owner it’s my job to be in charge. Be a good kitty and keep my milk inside, will you?”
Scaramouche felt Childe pull out his dick for the first time that night and immediately shove a buttplug in as a substitute, trapping his cum inside.
The older let out one more weak moan when Childe gave him one last hickey on his neck, before releasing him from his grasp. Scaramouche’s legs gave up and dropped to the sheets. He could finally begin to regain his breath after an hour--or maybe two--of constant ecstasy. His voice had officially given up, his throat hurting more than it ever had before.
Childe laid next to him and pulled the other close, wrapping his arms around his waist and digging his face in his short indigo hair.
Before Scaramouche could finally rest, Childe mumbled, “You’ve been such a good kitty... I love my dearest pretty kitty with all my heart.”
With the help of soft pets and ear rubs, he could finally go to sleep.