Work Text:
Theirs is a world divided into two classes: herbivores and carnivores. The classes don’t meld well; carnivore-hybrids are seen as dangerous and short-tempered, able to attack herbivores at any time due to their superior strength and their instincts that draw them to prey; herbivore-hybrids. It’s what everybody’s taught growing up – as early as in kindergarten – because it’s the truth in their society.
But what school didn’t teach them was that there were rungs in the hierarchy to being a carnivore too. A cat-hybrid like him couldn’t possibly compete with a cheetah, for example. Sure, he had forward-facing ears, but they were dark and smooth – not patterned like some of the larger feline hybrids – and sure, he had his bouts of feverish need, but it wasn’t overwhelming like his larger relatives.
It was those ears exactly that allowed him to hear the growl on his way back from classes. It was a low noise, broken halfway through – weak – that sounded exactly like what it was: an alarming plea for help. Megumi’s shoulders tensed immediately, growing taut as he froze by the mouth of the back alley.
One look had him tilting his head. Nothing was out of place, even if the shadows were longer and darker than they’d been that morning; there were bicycles parked all along the length of the narrow road with flowerpots here and there, watered and taken care of by the inhabitants of the shops.
For some reason however, the gang of cat-hybrids that usually converged there around sunset was gone.
Ah, there it was again; the growl that almost seemed to be broken into syllables. Megumi took a step forward, then another, listening for the source of the noise as he grabbed for his tail, toying with the hairs there. He watched in mild alarm as something white emerged from the shallow dip of the gutters, pawing uselessly at the edge of concrete.
Thinking that it could perhaps be another injured cat, Megumi hurried over to the end of the back alley, kneeling as he lightly touched the paw, pushing it back in before getting a good grip on the heavy gutter cover. Luckily, it had been a dry few weeks; whatever was in there would’ve drowned if it had rained that day, just like the forecast had predicted. Unluckily, the cover was almost entirely solid concrete and was as thick as his palm. Megumi heaved and felt a warning twinge in his shoulder.
No matter; he hooked his foot, shoe and all through the hole and pulled, upward and outward. Seizing the small opening as the cover lifted minutely, Megumi hooked his hands beneath it and pushed it onto its side, balancing himself on the edges of the gutter.
He dusted his hands off, breathing heavily as he came face-to-face with a snow-while feline the size of a small dog. Swallowing, Megumi eyed the pattern of dots decorating the white fur.
Rosettes.
The snow leopard cub’s eyes were tightly shut, its tail lying motionlessly in its passed-out state.
Megumi sighed heavily, carefully scooping the leopard out, running an assessing hand over a hot belly – hotter than it should be – before wrapping the cub in his shirt and heading for home.
“Do you not remember me?” the white-haired customer asked, tilting his head. He had a pair of fluffy ears atop his head – that were turned to Megumi – and slender, furrowed brows. “You saved my life a while back.”
The teenager towered over him, even though the boy’s face had a touch of fat still, betraying his age. He was probably seventeen or so. Though, only children could grin that way, Megumi thought. He blinked and shook his head rapidly, ears twitching. “Sorry, I think I would remember if I did,” he replied, passing over the cup of coffee – if it could even be called that – that was absolutely drenched in pump after pump of the sweetest syrups available in the coffee shop.
“Ah, thanks,” the boy replied, sliding some notes over the counter. “But you even told me your name was Megumi, and I remember your scent.”
Megumi felt the beginnings of a flush colouring his skin from the way the gleaming blue eyes stared, tracing soft over his face; brushstrokes that caressed like a wet tongue. “Please don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, ears flattening on his head as he rung the boy’s order up.
But the boy said nothing more, simply accepting the change from him, though their fingers did brush once, twice – the first time because he’d been careless and accidentally did so, the second because the teenager came back for more, unashamedly – before those eyes twinkled and the boy’s lips pulled into a soft smile.
Megumi stared after the teen’s retreating back, brushing twitching fingers over his tail. He was spurred into action again when the customer who was next in line fired off his order.
For the rest of his shift, the white-haired customer only sat and sipped at his drink, eyes crinkling when Megumi found his gaze inevitably drawn to the one person in the shop whose head turned unabashedly and followed him as he cleared tables and worked. The teen wasn’t even trying to be subtle, clearly aware of the effect he had on Megumi.
By the end of his shift, he was red as a tomato – the entire floor had noticed by then, the almost cat-and-mouse chase that happened before their very eyes – and was ready to escape through the back exit after handing off to a colleague.
“Yo, that guy’s been eyeing you like you’re his prey. Do you know him or something?” Kugisaki asked, tying the strings of her apron behind her back. Her horns were shiny and polished, as usual. They protruded from her head and twisted in a symmetrical downward spiral. “And he does know that you’re not a herbivore, doesn’t he?”
“I don’t know him,” Megumi grouched, scrubbing a hand over his face. His skin felt hot to the touch, which was mortifying in itself. “He has me mistaken for someone else.”
“Do you need me to teach him a lesson?” she asked, grinning.
“What’s a goat gonna do to a cat? Stomp on him?” Megumi retorted, folding his apron. He straightened up, eyes widening. “You could stomp on him,” he breathed, eyes shining with newfound interest. “You think if we transformed into our animal selves that a goat could stomp a cat to death?”
Kugisaki laughed, shaking her head minutely. “I think if I could transform, I could stomp you in your cat form death, yeah. But I can’t, so that’s a moot point.”
Unfortunately, Megumi only knew a handful of people who could transform into their animal counterparts fully, other than himself. “Yeah, that’s a shame. I’m off,” he said, waving lightly as he ducked into the staff room and packed up, slinging his bag over a shoulder.
Megumi took a deep breath and released it slowly, consciously stretching and relaxing his tense back. The shift had been difficult, between the customer who wouldn’t stop staring and the baby who’d threw up on a table, and he couldn’t wait to go home and take a shower.
But before that, he had to water the plant by the staff exit, and so he did, emptying the last of the water from the watering can into the pot.
“To think you worked here,” a voice said from behind him.
Megumi jumped bodily, twisting around and coming face to face with the customer from before. His heart raced; there hadn’t been anyone in the back alley apart from him just a second ago, so where did this guy come from?
“I told you, you’ve got the wrong person,” Megumi grunted, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ve rescued my fair share of people, but I would remember if they had eyes like…” he stopped abruptly, biting his tongue.
The teen stepped closer until he had to crane his neck to meet the blue gaze. “Like what?” He grinned mischievously.
When Megumi didn’t answer and just frowned, the boy continued, “I’ll just show you.”
And that was when Megumi came face to face with a leopard with fur so pale it shimmered in the setting sun, staring him down with intelligent eyes and paws the size of his fist, sitting like an oversized house cat. Staring down the back alley both ways with growing alarm, Megumi grabbed for his tail, sighing as he flicked at white ears. “You’re the first person I’ve seen who’d just transform willy-nilly in public. Stop it. You’ll scare the kids.”
The leopard’s rough tongue licked at his hand, blinking up at him slowly in silent communication. The maw opened, as if to roar.
“Fine, I’ll admit it. I remember you. Happy?” Megumi groused, running a hand through white fur and tugging in slight admonishment.
“Yes,” human Satoru replied, once again standing too close for comfort, looming over him with delight wrought across his handsome face. “How cold, Megumi-chan. I thought you’d really forgotten,” he said, mock whining.
How could I? Megumi thought, though he couldn’t possibly say it out loud, lest Satoru’s head got so big it exploded into smithereens.
“And at the same place you’d rescued me from, too,” the teen pouted.
Megumi couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the boy – no, the man – though part of him was quite adamant that it’d been nine years. Satoru was just a cub back then, fitting easily in the cradle of his arm, both in his animal and human form. It seemed so long ago, when he’d first found the cub in a gutter in this same back alley and nursed him back to health.
Truth be told, Megumi had thought that the cub was some irresponsible person’s exotic pet and was ready to call animal control once the cub showed signs of getting better, but to his surprise and shock, he came back from school one day, and found a human child lying atop the crumpled box, the soft sheets that he’d lined the cardboard with strewn all over the floor.
The child was unruly, but silent. So silent. It took him days of coaxing before the child even spoke to him, but from then, it was as if Satoru opened his eyes one day, found the ability to speak, and never stopped from then on. He chattered, he ate, he nuzzled into Megumi. He wailed when Megumi wouldn’t let him in the same bed for the night; he complained when Megumi would pull his neck away from nipping teeth; he pinched and nosed into Megumi’s ears, snuffling unconsciously.
He scent-marked Megumi entirely, even though he was simply too young to understand what that meant. And one morning, Megumi awoke to pain and blood dripping from his neck; Satoru had bitten him, sunk fangs into him in his sleep.
“Megumi, why is your neck all bandaged up? Are you hurt?”
“No, I just accidentally scratched myself.”
It was something that was bound to happen sooner or later, especially with such a young cub spending all his time together with a stranger that wasn’t part of his family. Carnivores had the urge to dominate, to bite. It was an urge that even Megumi felt sparingly, though he imagined that it would be stronger in the more fierce of felines.
He had, at the time, also been reeling at the loss of his only family, his sister, just weeks prior; and so Megumi threw himself at caring for the cub, waiting with baited breath for the police to come calling at any time, saying that they’d found the child’s parents.
They never did, for the first few months, and it seemed as if Satoru didn’t care much either, content with basking in Megumi’s presence and living with him. Megumi would wake up early in the morning and make some simple dishes for Satoru’s lunch, leaving notes on the fridge with instructions on reheating. A month into their living arrangement, Satoru started waking early too, helping him with preparing ingredients, though most of the time Megumi was too fixated on watching the boy like a hawk when he so much as came near to anything with a blade.
Two months in, Megumi came home from club activities with an armful of child and food awaiting him at the table.
Three months in, and he had grown accustomed to sharing baths with the boy.
Four months in, he bought a new futon that would accommodate them both; Satoru was a hogger.
Five months in, he was reminded that all good things came to an end. Satoru’s family came knocking with their own guards; he was apparently the missing heir to an affluent family who’d been kidnapped the day Megumi found him.
And so, jarringly, Megumi returned to his life of solitude. There were days when he’d arrive home, expecting someone who wasn’t there any longer to fly into his arms. His only solace was Satoru’s visits. The boy brought with him food and sweets and toys, always accompanied by his own guards, rolling around on the tatami of Megumi’s old apartment even though he lived in a manor.
The visits became more infrequent as time passed, however. First it was once a week, then once a month, and then it would be months before he heard from Satoru.
Then, nothing.
Back then, he hadn’t known that the last day he spent with Satoru was the last at all, until he found himself – years down the line – struggling to remember just what the boy looked like. He’d visited the Gojo manor, and heard from the caretakers that the entire family had emigrated elsewhere, and would, at most, be visiting once a year to take care of their affairs.
Present-day Megumi turned his face away from the naked man, clicking his tongue in chastisement. He waited patiently as Satoru dressed.
“How long are you back for this time?” he found himself asking; as he tried in vain to not let hope cloud his heart; as he tried to school his face so that his disappointment wouldn’t show when the answer ultimately came; walking beside the taller man and heading for the main road.
Satoru’s tail swished, touching his own. “Before that, why did you pretend not to know me? Are you angry at me?” the other man hounded.
Megumi flicked at the thicker tail with his own before wrapping it around his right leg, keeping it away from Satoru’s. “No. Why would I be?” he replied.
He was merely being petty; picking a fight with a man twelve years younger than he was. Perhaps a part of him wanted to see how far Satoru would go to convince him, though in the end it was he himself who ended up breaking down much quicker than he’d expected.
Satoru pulled Megumi by his sleeve toward the inner side of the pavement, walking along the outer edge himself. “I thought about you a lot, you know.”
An arm brushed softly against his own. Then, “I’m back for good this time.”
Megumi finally allowed his himself to look up, catching Satoru’s downturned head, studying every inch of the expression on the now-grown face. “Why didn’t you write?” he asked instead.
Even when the Satoru turned his head away to make sure that he wasn’t walking into a pole of some sort, his fluffy ears were trained on Megumi, like they had locked on to him and weren’t ever focusing elsewhere. Megumi had half a mind to slow down a pace or two to see if they’d twist backwards.
“I did,” the man replied. “I just never sent them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”
“Then why’d you come back?” Megumi retorted.
“You’re feeling ruthless today, aren’t you?” Satoru asked, exasperation bleeding through in the rough swishing of his tail.
Megumi touched his tail to Satoru’s, taking pity on him. “I can’t help it. I had to clean up some baby’s vomit.”
“I saw,” Satoru chuckled. “Now that I’m older, will you still pay for my food?”
“Cheeky. Now that I’m older, will you start offering me a hand before I cross streets?”
“I’ll offer you a hand even when you aren’t crossing streets.” Satoru grinned, reaching out and grabbing for his wrist.
Megumi dodged the hand-grab, flicking at a shoulder. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Satoru asked even as his fingers wriggled at Megumi’s playfully.
“That.”
“Okay, I’ll stop,” Satoru surrendered, stretching his upper back. “We’re at the right place, right?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.
Overshooting a little, Megumi turned and retraced his steps, biting the inside of his cheek to stop from smiling when Satoru tilted his head. “Where?” he asked.
The man’s lips curved. “Here,” Satoru clarified, pointing up.
Megumi blinked, following the line of the long finger. “Oh. Yeah,” he blurted, noticing for the first time that they’d arrived back at his apartment. For some unfathomable reason, he found himself opening his mouth. “It’s dinnertime. Have you eaten?”
It was as forward as he could be, and Satoru knew it too on an instinctive level.
“No, but I’ve other plans tonight. I just… wanted to see you for a bit,” Satoru replied, trailing fingers down his shoulder.
The touch was electric that zinged up and down his spine.
Megumi swallowed as he nodded sharply. “Okay.”
He bit his lip, waiting for something, anything.
And the younger man caught on, raising a hand to brush a gentle finger over the top of his left cheek; caressing, touching, feeling; Megumi couldn’t help but turn his face into the cup of a palm when the fingers fanned over his cheek.
“I’ll see you soon, Megumi.”
It was all that he was waiting for.
“See you, Satoru.”
Since then, Satoru had taken to visiting him constantly, turning into a regular face that he saw at work. He’d sit and stare at Megumi like wiping down tables and frothing milk was the most interesting thing in the world, the look on his eyes so… intense it was harsh compared to other bored, sweeping looks he usually got from customers. There was something hanging between them, heavy, dark; something that Megumi couldn’t quite place his finger on, yet something that should be obvious to him.
All he knew was that at the end of each shift, Satoru would walk him home, tail brushing against his, shoulder brushing against his, hand brushing against his, though it always ended the same way; dropping him off, touching only skin that was uncovered; no more, no less.
He wondered if he was the only one who remembered the promise between them, after all.
“I came by the other day and you weren’t here,” Satoru observed, leaning against the counter as he waited on a refill.
“Yeah, I only work here part-time,” Megumi replied over the loud whirring of the espresso machine. Slightly repulsed still by Satoru’s order, he drizzled syrup into the mug, counting the pumps mentally. “What, did you miss me?” he couldn't help quipping as he turned around.
There was a pause as Satoru reached out for the mug. “You know I did, Megumi.”
Megumi only chastised himself for asking such a loaded question.
“Will you go out with me today?” Satoru finally asked.
A pause, before, “… I get off in five minutes.”
“Actually,” a voice interrupted. “You can go now if you want, since I’m here early.”
Megumi turned in place, almost spearing his face on Kugisaki’s horn. She stared at him with a smirk on her face, the kind that screamed that he owed her big time and that he’d be forced to cough up details sooner or later; a look that sat on her face more and more often these days.
“‘Kay. I’ll meet you out front, Satoru.”
Without waiting for a reply, Megumi slipped into the staff room, standing immobile by his locker. His reflection stared back at him, the black of his ears poking out from his hair. “Wipe that dopey expression off of your face, Fushiguro Megumi,” he commanded, watching the curve of his lips and the movement of his mouth as it shaped his words. He gripped at his tail, “You’re twelve years older than he is. Twelve. You’re turning thirty this December. Thirty.”
Sighing, Megumi grabbed for his bag. As expected, Satoru was waiting outside, pacing around by the entrance of the shop.
“What’re you doing, Satoru? You’re scaring off the customers.” Megumi snagged a sleeve and pulled the younger man along. He continued without waiting for a reply. “Have a place in mind?”
“Wait, I-”
“…Yes?” he prompted when Satoru fell quiet, perhaps a little too hurriedly.
“I have a souvenir for you.” Satoru slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling something out, something that fit entirely in his fist.
“What is it?” Megumi asked, holding out a hand, palm upturned when prompted.
It was probably a keychain of some kind, he thought. The younger man placed his closed fist on Megumi’s palm, opening it.
And abruptly interlaced their fingers.
“Gotcha!” Satoru smirked playfully, gripping onto his hand tight.
“I knew it,” Megumi grouched as if he did – he didn’t – struggling half-heartedly. He flicked his tail at Satoru’s as he ducked his chin.
“I’ve been thinking,” Satoru started, kneading his fist in soft, aborted motions. “How long has it been since I’ve come back?”
“Shouldn’t you know the answer better than I do?” Megumi asked, brows raising as he tried to ignore the warm palm intertwined with his own.
Satoru turned a downturned gaze to him. “Three weeks. Shouldn’t you be giving me an answer by now?” he asked, tugging at Megumi’s hand.
“What-?” Megumi studied the man’s face, pressing his lips tight to stop from chortling at the pinched expression. “Sometimes I forget that you’re still a child in a man’s body. What in the heavens are you talking about?” He resisted the tug just because he could, watching Satoru for minute changes in his expression. The white, patterned ears had pressed flat on his head.
But the man didn’t answer, simply tugging him into the nearest alleyway.
“Do you remember what I last said to you nine years back?” Satoru asked, running his free hand through his hair. He looked agitated with the way he toyed with the hem of his shirt, brows furrowed. Reaching out, he tugged at Megumi’s bag, slinging it over his own shoulders when Megumi surrendered it after some back and forth.
Megumi paused before shaking his head, though his heartbeat had quickened some.
“Liar,” Satoru said.
The man was suddenly slinging a heavy arm over his waist and pulling, crushing him against a chest. Megumi stared into eyes so blue they could rival the skies, and swallowed heavily.
It’s weird; the Satoru who stood before him now – who was entirely solid beneath his palms and so, so warm – was tall and grown, nothing like the cute boy he’d been, and Megumi knows that people change; he’s changed through the years too. But there’s a quality to things that just seem so vivid, so fresh in his mind, like the last nine years was nothing but a fever dream that passed in the blink of an eye.
Satoru still smiles the same, in the way that only children and kids do, and just as always, his ears are geared toward Megumi like a satellite dish perpetually pointed toward his existence. Part of him wondered just what they looked like when he wasn’t anywhere near Satoru; if they’d flatten against fluffy hair, or if they’d be covered by a hat. Part of him wondered if Satoru was conscious of it happening; if it was Satoru’s way of letting him and the world know just what had his attention at any given time.
Megumi didn’t know what he was waiting for.
“I still mean it, Megumi-nii,” Satoru breathed heavily, lowly into the space between them. “And I could do it too, now that I’m older.”
“I’m older too, you know. I’m nearing thirty now, Satoru,” Megumi replied. He huffed, lips quirking dryly. “Besides, I don’t see you that way.”
“Liar,” the man repeated.
Megumi swallowed the yelp that bubbled up his throat when a hand pawed at the base of his tail, his breath forced out of him in a whoosh. His toes curled at how sensitive he felt, the skin of his belly erupting in goosebumps. Satoru’s hand traced the downward slope of his tail, and only then did he realise that his tail-
His tail had wrapped itself around Satoru’s thigh.
Detaching himself swiftly, Megumi grunted when a nose pushed itself into his ears. “Ah, people can see!” he exclaimed, turning his head away from the brash nuzzling. It was a mistake; the act pushed his nose against Satoru’s neck.
Satoru had frozen, though his hand petted at the base of Megumi’s tail slowly, calmingly.
“Bite me,” the leopard said. “I… I want you to bite me. And then-”
Megumi heard the loud swallow.
“And then-”
Satoru whispered his parting words from years back into Megumi’s hair.
I want to mate you.
The moment Megumi stepped into his apartment, Satoru trailing behind him, he transformed into his cat form, meowing up at Satoru.
Catch me if you can.
Without thought, Satoru transformed too, stepping carefully lest he accidentally crushed the cat’s tiny head beneath his paw.
Megumi raced onto the coffee table agilely, tail swishing as he regarded Satoru with sharp eyes. The leopard came up behind him, just watching him; letting him set the pace. Megumi sniffed – he could practically see Satoru’s smug smirk – before he jumped, slamming bodily into a large face, giggling internally as Satoru flinched and rubbed a large paw over his bruised nose. He knew that his little surprise attack would do nothing more than disorient the larger feline, but it still felt good bullying the younger cat a little, he thought.
The leopard growled, the sawing noise breaking in places; a call that Megumi now knew was typical of his leopards yet still unique to Satoru.
Megumi turned around, and shook his butt and tail at the larger feline.
It was obvious when Satoru geared up to pounce; his tail tucked itself between his legs and his nostrils flared. Megumi meowed and jumped.
He landed with his front paws slipping into the sink and his hind paws hanging off of the counter, scrabbling for purchase with Satoru hot on his hindquarters. A much larger paw swiped at him as Satoru heaved himself up on his hind legs, trying to grab for Megumi’s nape with his teeth.
Darkness rapidly closing in on him – for there was no way that Satoru could scruff him without closing his teeth over his entire head – Megumi swatted at the pink nose in chastisement before jumping and using the refrigerator as a foothold, bounding down the hallway into the bathroom. He balanced himself on the edge of the tub, waiting patiently as his black tail swished behind him.
Satoru followed him soundlessly – Megumi saw the lines of strong muscle that shifted between shoulder blades; saw the pelvis swaying minutely with movement – an apex predator watching, stalking his prey. He stopped by the doorway, studying Megumi with unblinking blue eyes. The markings on his face were stark against the pale white of his fur; rosettes dotted his entire torso in a pattern that was unique only to him. In contrast, Megumi was simply a plain black cat, unremarkable except for the green of his eyes.
The snow leopard growled playfully, his thick white tail mirroring Megumi’s own, swishing rhythmically.
Megumi turned and wriggled his butt at Satoru once again, lifting his chin and issuing a silent challenge.
He saw the moment the wide, blue eyes narrowed – slitted pupils expanding as Satoru took in the space in the bathroom – concluding that he had nowhere to escape to. He stuck out his tongue at Satoru and tensed, waiting for the right moment to make his move.
Megumi was in the air before Satoru’s hind paws fully left the ground, meowing in amusement when Satoru dove head-first into the tub and slipped, flailing on his back. Pawing at metal, there was a split second of eye contact between them – where Megumi let out a mewl – before he flicked the faucet open.
He heard Satoru yowl and immediately vaulted out into the hallway and outside again, twisting around to see Satoru jumping out of the tub and shaking his fur dry. Leopard Satoru chased after him as he jumped corners and raced up walls, mock-swatting at him and trying to pin him down without actually crushing him; this time, truly playing a game of cat and mouse with him. The leopard slowly but steadily cornered him, herding him to the far side of the room.
The vase on his desk toppled when he jumped onto it and knocked it down with his tail, and it would’ve shattered into pieces had Satoru’s paw not shot out and kept it from falling. Leopard Satoru growled at him as if cautioning him to be more careful. Megumi lifted his chin haughtily before jumping onto his futon.
Satoru seized the opening immediately, lifting one edge of the top sheet in his jaw and dragging it over Megumi’s smaller form – no doubt having planned it in his mind – trapping Megumi beneath the sheet between his much larger paws. Megumi bristled, hissing, but Satoru only licked him playfully in a broad stripe that wet his entire face, nosing into his fur gently.
For a moment, all was silent; Megumi tilted his head, laying a paw on Satoru’s nose. He swatted at it, closing his eyes against the subsequent huff that ruffled his fur. Megumi’s size meant that the white paw that lifted was easily the size of his entire head, though Satoru only nudged at his face gently.
Satoru too, realised that he was too heavy and may accidentally crush the small cat, transforming back to his human form. “Caught you,” he knelt above Megumi, tickling the soft belly of fur.
Megumi mrrow-ed, licking softly at a finger before he followed suit, reverting back to his larger form.
Suddenly, the places they touched consisted of warm, smooth skin and long, tangled limbs, Satoru’s hair dripping water onto his face.
“Wet,” Megumi breathed, nipping at Satoru’s finger.
Their breaths mingled, blood pumping in their veins from the thrill of the chase. He was slowly thickening beneath the slip of a sheet, and Satoru knew it too. A hand reached out, brushing in broad sweeps over his skin in random patterns, fingers spreading long and thin over his arms, his chest, his waist. Satoru hooked a hand beneath the curve of his lower back and flipped them over, tugging impatiently at the sheet between them. If he had claws, they would no doubt be shredded entirely.
Everything was so warm when Megumi laid naked atop Satoru, gazing into his wide blues, chests expanding and contracting as both of them tried to regulate their breathing.
“About before,” Megumi started after a long pause. “Did you mean it?” he found himself murmuring into the scant inches between them. If he tipped his head a little, their lips would touch. “You know, Satoru… I’m a carnivore, too. And I’m old.”
“Fuck that,” Satoru growled, broads hands stilling in their roaming. “I don’t care about any of those things. I want to-” He cut himself off, nuzzling into Megumi’s ears and inhaling heavily. “You smell like home.”
Megumi huffed into a rough cheek.
“I’ve waited, and waited, and I don’t want to anymore. Just… Megumi,” Satoru’s eyes shone. “I know I’m younger and you see me as the child from back then, but I meant what I said before, and I mean it now.”
“When I see you, I want to…” he struggled with wording his thoughts. “I want to squish you.”
Megumi burst out in soft peals of laughter, muffling it into the pillow. He tilted his head into Satoru’s insistent nosing. “Eloquent, aren’t you, kitten?” he teased.
“Stop it.” This time, it was Satoru who flushed, clenching his teeth as he reached out with a slow hand. “I like you. I always have. Bite me?” he blurted, brushing fingers over Megumi’s cheeks. “You’re so pretty. And your hands,” he reached out, laying Megumi’s palm flat against his, studying their entwined fingers with wonder shining in his blues. “They’re so small.”
“When we first met, you were the small one,” Megumi replied, shaking his head.
Satoru kissed his cheek. “I want to put a collar on you.”
Startled into silence, Megumi stared wide-eyed at the younger man, throat bobbing as he swallowed. His gaze fell to Satoru’s lips.
“A collar,” he started, breaths coming out in puffs.
“A collar,” Satoru replied.
And he thought that Satoru truly did know him too well, because lips descended upon him, kissing him full on the mouth. It was as if something in him gave way, something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on; Megumi’s hands flew onto broad shoulders and gripped, raising himself onto his knees on either side of Satoru’s waist as he licked into the willing mouth. Hands gripped at his hips, fingers spread wide over delicate skin wrapped around bone, holding him still.
The first upward grind had him gasping into Satoru’s mouth wetly.
“You’re so pretty,” Satoru pulled back, his voice tapering off into a low growl. “So pretty. I want to-”
A hand landed lightly on the base of his tail, petting softly, playfully, yet filled to bursting with intent. Megumi’s toes curled.
“Say it,” he gasped.
“I want to fuck you. Fuck you full of cubs,” Satoru groaned – finally admitting it – trailing questing fingers lower – past the base of Megumi’s tail – and then lower still.
“I don’t have any lube,” Megumi muttered, brows pulling tight as he pressed his face into a damp neck. And because the skin was right there, he snuck a lick, tasting salt on his tongue. “There’s hand lotion, but-”
Humming softly, Satoru’s fingers splayed over the skin of his ass, trailing, just feeling the texture where he was most sensitive. The touch was delicate and gentle; exploring new parts of him and just- just feeling. A hand grabbed for his dark tail, twirling it and caressing his fur before pressing it into his mouth.
“Mmph,” Megumi protested, falling quiet when Satoru’s eyes darkened considerably.
“Get it nice and wet, okay, Megumi-nii,” Satoru whispered directly into his ears. The murmured promise dragged sensation bodily from the base of his spine straight to his cock, jumping where it lay hard against Satoru’s hip.
Arching off of Satoru’s hip, Megumi looked down at their bellies, catching a glimpse of the younger man’s dark, reddened cock. He licked his lips, letting go of his wet tail. “Maybe I’ll sit on you,” Megumi murmured.
“Fuuuck,” Satoru groaned, extending the syllable long. When he looked into Megumi’s eyes, his pupils were blown, mouth hanging open.
“Or maybe not,” Megumi thought out loud, toying with the younger man on purpose. “Maybe for today I’ll just let you do what you want. Fuck myself with my tail as you watch. That’s what you wanted, right, Satoru?”
He licked the shell of Satoru’s ear, mouthing the lobe between his lips. Grabbing for the lotion blindly, Megumi squirted some messily onto his fingers, nibbling on the skin of Satoru’s neck.
“Please,” Satoru said in a plea, his throat bobbing. “How did you know?” he breathed, guiding their faces close.
“You couldn’t be more transparent, Satoru.” He kissed Satoru, their tongues touching nice and soft; slow, because Satoru’s cock looked like it could burst any second. “You can stick your fingers in with mine if you want,” he whispered low and filthy into the teenager’s ear, pushing the first of hopefully many into his ass.
Satoru didn’t answer; he only pawed blindly at Megumi’s butt, trailing fingers where Megumi was fingering himself, moaning when he felt the finger sunk all the way, fucking shallowly. He licked his lips, positioning Megumi by the hips so that the man was comfortable laying on top of him. Carefully, Satoru interlaced his fingers with Megumi’s, spreading the thin lotion on his fingers too.
“Okay, I’m putting it in,” he narrated, watching Megumi’s face intently. And then he sucked in a harsh breath, like he was the one being fucked open; like he was the one moaning, spread on thick fingers. “You’re so hot inside. Can we put it in now?” he asked, barely having opened Megumi up.
Megumi crumpled atop Satoru, pressing his face into Satoru’s chest. “Patience,” he choked out, mouthing at a nipple. For some reason, his entire body felt so sensitive; like he was tuned in to every small move Satoru made. Satoru’s finger retreated, and he felt something thicker wriggling by his rim, stretching him wider as two more returned. Megumi muffled his cry into muscle.
“Kitten,” Satoru murmured, staring at him with wide, gleaming eyes.
Wordlessly, Megumi reached out for his tail, pressing it into Satoru’s other hand. He felt the hand squeezing it once, twice, letting go before the fingers in his ass were removed. Megumi bit at his lip, grunting softly at the sensation. “What’s the matter?” he asked, allowing Satoru to flip them over.
“I want to see you from behind. Can I?”
“You don’t have to ask,” Megumi replied, turning onto his chest as he pushed himself up onto his knees. Turning his head, he watched Satoru with dark eyes, leaning backward and touching his ass to Satoru’s dick just because he could.
“Ah!” Satoru doubled over as his hands flew to Megumi’s waist. “I… I think I’ll come if you do that again.”
Megumi eyed the flush on Satoru’s skin, entirely sure that the same colour marred his own cheeks. His mouth fell slack when Satoru pressed the tip of his tail in, guiding with a firm hand. “I- mmh, I can’t control the end that well, so you’ll have to-” He trailed off, watching Satoru’s length kick, slapping against belly.
Suddenly, it was all that he wanted.
“Put it in,” he said, transfixed on Satoru’s reddened face. All Megumi knew then was that he wanted to see more of it, more of that, wanted Satoru to cry out as he came in his ass. He pulled his tail out roughly, pressing three fingers into himself. His thighs inched open as he spread himself for Satoru.
“I can’t,” Satoru protested, biting his lower lip. “I’ll come as soon as it-”
“Shh, it’s okay, Satoru. Do it,” Megumi coaxed. He sucked in a breath through his teeth when Satoru swallowed, guiding his cock in hand. Mouth falling slack at the blunt pressure against his rim, he willed his hips into cooperating, pushing back against Satoru’s weight.
It slipped in. Impossibly, the head popped in; the stretch had Megumi gasping desperately into the pillow, heaving for breath as his hand flew to his own dick, grasping and tugging. He wanted to-
He wanted to come on Satoru’s cock so badly.
“Megumi-nii, Megumi-nii,” Satoru called out frantically, gripping into the meat of Megumi’s hips. “I can’t- can’t!!”
“I want to come on your cock,” Megumi blurted, meeting Satoru’s eyes.
“Ahh!!” Satoru yelled, doubling over Megumi and hugging the slender waist tight as he pumped load after load into Megumi’s ass, his thighs shaking against Megumi’s own.
And because Satoru’s dick was barely in, Megumi felt it all; felt the splash of hot cum, the wetness spilling out of him in waves. He shivered, toes curling. He was so close he could taste it in the back of his throat, his palm stuttering on his own cock as Satoru buried closer, whimpering into his back.
“Bite me,” Satoru slurred.
Megumi set his teeth against the meat of Satoru’s forearm, breath stuttering out of him as his teeth clamped down. The taste of blood and sweat – and something that was entirely Satoru – flooded his mouth.
His back arched as he came, squeezing around Satoru. Each spurt had him clenching, his orgasm wrung out forcefully from him as Satoru’s hand joined his own in stripping him of his spend and his ability to breathe and stay on his knees.
Satoru’s arms guided him onto his side, draping heavily over his waist.
Silence draped thick over them like a blanket, punctuated by the panting and noises they each let out as wandering hands and tails brushed against skin.
And then, “I can’t believe I came so quickly,” Satoru groused, embarrassment colouring his voice. He pressed his nose into Megumi’s hair, nipping at the dark fur of Megumi’s ears.
Megumi wrapped his tail around patterned white, pressing his smile into Satoru’s bicep as he felt the man’s tail twirling around his own in response. “I certainly didn’t mind. You’ll do better next time.” He nipped at the arm softly, pressing soft lips to twitching muscle after. “Do you think a leopard could fuck a house cat?” he asked leisurely. Then, “Maybe it could fuck a human.”
Megumi felt it as every inch of Satoru tensed, before the man slumped against him. “Ahhh, you’re killing me, Megumi,” Satoru groaned.