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"... then there's Briar here, who is a special case. He doesn't get along too well with the other kitties so we gave him his own little room."
Bristling at the sound of his name, Briar curled tighter into his hammock. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep they would just keep walking. Most potential adopters barely spared him a glance anyway. When the human footsteps paused at the entrance of his enclosure, Briar’s stomach began to churn.
"Why is his adoption fee so low?" An unfamiliar male voice asked.
"Hrm ... a few different reasons," the adoption coordinator stammered. "Black cats, as you know, are not too popular, and Briar has been with us a while ..."
Much longer than a sexually mature catkin was expected to linger on the adoption list. After growing out of kittenhood, when they were popular with lonely older couples and young children, catkin were usually adopted by well-off singles for sexual companionship. Briar knew that his probability of finding a lasting placement would drop off heavily once he passed twenty.
By his next birthday, the agency would start looking to drop his case.
When the man didn't seem inclined to step away, Briar swallowed his fear and forced his body to uncurl from its defensive shape. Perhaps Briar couldn't preen and flirt like the other cats, but - as the increasingly exasperated adoption coordinator was fond of reminding him - he needed to at least try.
"Oh, he's awake! Maybe he wants to say hello?" There was a note of relief in the coordinator's voice as she hurriedly unlocked the glass enclosure.
Warily, Briar climbed down from his hammock, glancing at the visitor from beneath his eyelashes.
The man ... didn't look too bad, Briar supposed. He was tall, with brown skin and dark wavy hair pulled back in a tail. Unlike the other wealthy adopters they paraded around this place, he was dressed casually in jeans and loafers, a soft-looking cardigan over a faded t-shirt.
When he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkled handsomely, and dimples appeared in his lean, scruffy cheeks.
The man halted in the middle of the room before he got too close and offered his palm. "Hello Briar," he said in a low, soothing voice. "My name is Lorenzo."
Briar's eyes narrowed as he stared at the man's hand, his ears flicking in consideration. Slowly, Briar approached and lowered his head to scent Lorenzo's palm.
Catkin could learn a lot about a person from their smell. Humans didn't have this ability, and Briar always wondered how they could decide to trust so blindly. Lorenzo smelled … good - like coffee and sun-warmed leather, old paper and ink. It was such a pleasant scent that Briar found himself pushing into the touch, rubbing his cheek against Lorenzo's palm until he realized himself and quickly skittered back, face burning.
"Oh wow, he must really like you," the coordinator chirped. "Briar's usually so shy!"
"He's lovely." Lorenzo murmured, his steady gaze making Briar drop his eyes with in embarassment.
Lovely? Briar’s shoulders hunched to his ears, his face heating with a flush. No one had ever called him that ...
"What do you think, Briar? Do you want to have a private chat with Mr. Bolivar?"
Clearly, the adoption coordinator wanted Briar to - this was the first time in weeks that Briar had been requested for even an initial interview. And with such a nice-smelling, handsome adopter? There was no way someone like Lorenzo would settle for a clearance bin charity case like him.
"... okay," Briar murmured, telling himself not to get his hopes up.
--
Feigning casualness, Lorenzo glanced around Briar's enclosure. The agency his sister had recommended was stupidly posh, and the small room was decorated in a jungle theme for some reason - complete with piped-in rain noises and green shag carpeting, dominated by a life-sized palm tree with a textured trunk for climbing. From its topmost branches hung the hammock that Briar had been hiding in, while the catboy in question sat at the base of the tree - cross-legged on a moss-patterned beanbag, his tail curled defensively around his knees.
"Um, nice place you got around here." Lorenzo offered, breaking the awkward silence which had descended between them when the adoption coordinator had left the room.
"'s okay," Briar answered quietly, pulling nervously at the bottom of his shirt as his eyes tracked Lorenzo around the room.
"That’s, um. Good." Lorenzo tried to lower himself into a nearby beanbag, but was considerably less graceful about it than Briar. It was catboy-sized - just a little too small to be comfortable. “Shit,” Lorenzo muttered when he almost fell onto his ass, glancing up just in time to see the ghost of a smile playing around Briar's lips before the boy's gaze dropped away.
“You can … there are chairs …”
“It’s fine, I’ll just sit on the floor.” Lorenzo folded his legs beneath himself, wondering at the flutter of warmth in his stomach. He'd be willing to embarrass himself again just to see Briar smile.
A beat of silence stretched between them.
"So. Um." Lorenzo took a breath. Jeez, this felt as awkward as a first date - which this interview was akin to, he supposed. The other catkin he'd talked to had been much more chatty than Briar, though. Some had been downright forward, draping themselves over Lorenzo's lap and licking at his neck. "Do you ... uh, have any questions for me?"
When he spoke, Briar's voice sounded raspy. Lorenzo wondered if it was from disuse. "D'you have kids?"
"No." Lorenzo answered easily.
Briar nodded, picking at the hem of his shirt. "Other pets ... hybrids?"
"No."
Briar nodded again, then fell silent. The bottom of his agency-branded uniform shirt, Lorenzo noticed, was fraying rapidly. "You know," Briar said stiffly. "I'm ... not like other catboys, right?"
"That doesn't matter to me at all," Lorenzo replied with confidence. He had meant it in a comforting manner, but from the expression on Briar's face, the catboy hadn't understood it that way.
"If that's not-" Briar frowned, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "Then why did you pick me? Is it because I'm cheap?"
A pang of embarrassment made Lorenzo grimace. "You could hear us out there?"
"It's okay if that's why," Briar rested his chin on his knees, still avoiding Lorenzo's eyes.
"It wasn't the price," Lorenzo answered firmly, feeling the need to reassure him. "I have more than enough to support you, if that's what you're worried about."
From Briar's expression, Lorenzo hadn't answered the question he was really asking.
"And ... well, you are quite lovely," Lorenzo found himself saying, embarrassed. He'd never been great at flattery, a point which seemed to annoy the other catkin he had interviewed with. Though something about Briar made Lorenzo wonder if his uncertainty ran deeper. Lorenzo decided to tell him the truth. "Actually, when I first saw you, I thought that you ... reminded me of someone I once knew."
Those clear green eyes, that midnight-black hair … just remembering her made Lorenzo’s chest squeeze. Briar's ears perked quizzically at the admission, but he didn't pry any further, to Lorenzo's relief.
"Is that ... all you wanted to know?"
After a beat, Briar shrugged and nodded his head. It was the quickest adoption interview Lorenzo had experienced - the other hybrids had asked plainly about Lorenzo's sexual appetites, his expectations regarding housekeeping, and how generous he would be with their allowance - all points that Lorenzo had been prepared to reassure Briar about. Though the agency was responsible for performing rigorous background checks on any adoption application, the initial interview was really the pet's only chance to assess their new potential master.
"Alright," Lorenzo smiled weakly as he stood. "Thanks for ... your time?"
Briar straightened in his seat. For a moment, it seemed as if he wanted to say something - but eventually, he looked down, his tail tightening around his ankles.
Lorenzo felt strangely disappointed as the enclosure door swung closed behind him.
--
Twenty minutes later, Lorenzo sat in the lobby, paging listlessly through the agency's directory of available pets. For some reason, after meeting Briar, Lorenzo just couldn't summon enthusiasm for any of the other hybrids posing prettily in their glossy photos.
With a sigh, Lorenzo replaced the portfolio on the coffee table in front of him and shifted to the edge of his seat. There were maybe a half-dozen pet placement agencies in the area he hadn't checked out yet, though maybe he would give it a break for a while-
Suddenly, the adoption coordinator pushed into the waiting room, her eyes brightening when she saw Lorenzo. "Mr. Bolivar - congratulations!" Her heels clicked loudly against the tile as she hurried towards him. "Briar said that he would be so happy to move onto the probationary adoption stage - oh, he just loves you!"
"He said ... really?" Lorenzo blinked incredulously.
The coordinator faltered. "Or, ah, have you changed your mind? If so, we have many-"
"No, no," Lorenzo shook his head, unable to suppress his smile. "Briar is wonderful. How soon can I take him home?"
--
The agency must have really wanted to get rid of him, because Briar’s paperwork was pushed through in record time.
By the end of the day, Briar's few agency-provided possessions were packed, and he was taken from his enclosure for his initial physical examination. There, they took his weight and measured his height, along with the length of his tail, limbs and fangs. Latex-covered fingers shoved into Briar's mouth, pulling his tongue and shoving into the back of his throat to make him gag. Lights were shone into his eyes until he saw spots and they pricked him with all sorts of needles.
The grooming which came next was a bit nicer - attendants bathed Briar from top to bottom and blow-dried his fur until it was sleek and soft. His nails were clipped and his hair was trimmed, his unfurred skin lotioned with something which smelled melony.
Last time, it had been lemony. Briar wondered if masters were offered the choice. He tolerated the grooming alright, though afterwards he felt like a wrapped-up present, offered a paper gown to dress himself afterwards, and nothing else.
Finally - Briar's least favorite part.
"Here," the vet-tech rattled a paper cup with two pink pills beneath Briar's nose. When Briar's ears flattened, she tutted and put a hand on his nape. "Don't struggle now - you've been such a good boy so far."
Good boy - if Briar wanted to go home with his new master, he would have to continue being good. Sullenly, Briar let the tech feed him pills and water, opening his mouth afterwards so she could confirm that he had swallowed them.
"See? That wasn't so hard," the tech scratched at the base of Briar's ears, making him cringe at the scrape of her acrylic nails. "Really, you'll be thankful that you're doped up for the examination."
Briar, who had endured the procedure three times, knew that the pills would make little difference on his end - he'd still feel everything they did to him, and remember it clearly. The drugs just prevented him from fighting, and always made him queasy after.
The pre-adoption examination proceeded after Briar was strapped onto a slightly tilted table (ostensibly to prevent him from rolling off and hurting himself). First, the vet cataloged each one of Briar’s physical marks (his flaws) - from the notch in his ear that the rescue had cut after they sterilized him, to the scars beneath his chest. Briar knew that it was something to do with hybrid ownership laws - to document damage and abuse between transfers of ownership. He would receive another examination if he was returned before the end of his probationary period.
The second examination, Briar thought dully, was always worse.
A light was shone into his eyes again and things were shoved into his ears and nose. The vet stuffed fingers into Briar’s drooling mouth, feeling around his teeth and testing the sharpness of his fangs. Briar’s gag reflex was also measured with a long, flexible tube. His abdomen was palpated and his limbs were prodded and poked with needles.
And through it all, the vet continued a dispassionate monologue, addressing her assistant, who was taking notes on a laptop. Briar felt a dull humiliation at the knowledge that all of his medical information would be sent to his newest master, that Lorenzo would know all of Briar's vulnerabilities before they had even met for a second time.
"Let's get him packed up and shipped out," the vet said briskly, scribbling down a prescription for testosterone. She looked down at Briar with a beat of pity, hair haloed by the examination light like a florescent angel. "Let's hope I don't see you back here next month, hm?"
Briar was rubber-legged when they released him from his restraints, blinking gratefully into unconsciousness before they led him away.
--
Lorenzo hardly saw a whisker of Briar the first night.
Incredible how well a fully-grown catboy could hide himself when Lorenzo had thought that he knew every square centimeter of his own home - eventually, Lorenzo found the boy in his study napping atop one of his taller bookshelves, a sulky little mound wedged against ceiling with his tail curled tightly across his nose.
Hesitating in the doorway, Lorenzo remembered reading that a new pet needed space for the first few days to adjust to their new environment. He didn't want to make Briar even more skittish by disturbing him.
On the other hand, it really wasn't safe to leave him there. Catkin might have the reflexes of their genetic host species, but one shift in the wrong direction and Briar would have a very messy fall right onto Lorenzo's desk or the stacks of books scattered around. Lorenzo grimaced - he had meant to clean up more before he actually brought a pet home, but these kinds of things always seemed to slip his mind.
Taking a breath, Lorenzo grabbed a stool and stepped up, cautiously popping his head over the edge of the bookcase.
"Briar?"
Briar's ears swiveled, his body stiffening when he caught sight of Lorenzo.
"Shhh ... it's okay," Lorenzo said soothingly, holding up his hands. He had expected this reaction. "I didn't want to bother you. You can keep sleeping, just ... I don't think that it's safe up there."
Briar's quickened breathing slowed after a minute, when it seemed like Lorenzo didn't intend to drag him away. "I ... I don't feel-" Briar swallowed against his thick voice. A little worried, Lorenzo waited for him to continue. "Can I ... alone? Just - Just for tonight?"
"You want to be left alone?" Lorenzo asked carefully. "That's perfectly fine, sweet- ... Briar. I have a guest bedroom where you can sleep as long as you'd like. You'll be all by yourself there."
After a beat of hesitation, Briar began slowly unfurling his body from the corner. Lorenzo was amazed all over again at how much more flexible catkin were compared to humans. To keep himself from staring, Lorenzo stepped down the ladder and offered his hand. "Do you need help? Or-" Lorenzo stumbled back a step as Briar leapt to the ground in a blur of black fur, landing daintily on perhaps the only spot in the room clear of clutter without as much as brushing Lorenzo’s offered hand.
"Room?" Briar asked, backing towards the doorway timidly, swaying a little on his feet.
"Oh! Ah ... second to the left."
Briar nodded before whirling around and disappearing. A second later, Lorenzo heard the click of a closed door.
--
When Briar woke - groggy and swaddled in blankets, curled in the corner of the bed - the sun had long set. For a moment, the strange surroundings startled him and he had the terrible thought that he was back in the Basement - that terrible dark room kittens were thrown into when they didn't behave. Maybe it had all been a dream - the rescue and the rehabilitation clinic and the agency - maybe he had never been adopted and never would be-
Breathe. Briar told himself, swallowing against the tears prickling at the edge of his vision.
Taking in the scent of the room began to ground him - clean linens and faded lavender, just a hint of something deep and warm and familiar. When Briar's eyes focused in the dim light, he could finally calm his pounding heart, shakily releasing the blanket that he'd snarled in his claws. Guiltily, Briar shoved the frayed fleece to the bottom of the pile and crawled out of bed.
He thought that he had stopped having those nightmares - had gotten over these memories … it must have been the drugs that brought them back in full color. Swallowing, Briar hugged his arms around his chest. He couldn’t have a freak-out like that in front of his master.
His new master. Lorenzo. Briar hesitated at the door to the living room. Maybe he had already messed up by hiding himself away as soon as he stepped foot in his new home.
But ... Lorenzo had told Briar that he could sleep as long as he wanted, right? And he'd kept his promise, not disturbing Briar or forcing petting on him when he was in a weakened state. Even that morsel of kindness made Briar feel guilty and unsettled - what would his master want in return?
Outside, the hallway was quiet, with the lamps extinguished, it was lit only by the streetlights outside the window. Quietly, Briar slipped around the furniture, wondering which door led to Lorenzo's bedroom. His master had excused his inattention this evening, but would Lorenzo expect Briar to share his bed tonight? Service him in the morning?
A painful rumble from his stomach reminded Briar that he hadn't eaten anything since his light breakfast at the agency. Miserably, Briar reminded himself that it was his own fault that he had slept through both lunch and dinner. The right thing to do would be to wait until morning to be fed, and try to get some sleep despite his hunger pangs. His first placement - the Katos - would have punished him for even thinking of stealing food under the cover of darkness. The brothel had simply locked its kitchens between designated mealtimes.
But Briar wasn’t a good boy, was he? Because he was already wandering towards the kitchen, light-headed and led by the growling of his stomach.
Oh - there was something that smelled good … and it was coming from the wrapped plate on the counter. Briar approached delicately, saliva filling his mouth when he saw the familiar pink of cooked salmon.
Was this a trap? If so, Lorenzo was crueler than Briar could comprehend.
There was a note left by the plate. Briar's eyes were able to make out the writing despite the darkness, but - like many hybrids - he had never learned to read. Did it say “okay to eat”? Or “stay away”?
Wracked with indecision, Briar stood frozen in the kitchen, staring longingly at the savory-smelling dish. He was so distracted that he did not notice footsteps approaching until the light snapped on.
"Oh - Briar!"
Briar whirled around in alarm, the note fluttering to the ground. His stomach chose that moment to release a loud, embarrassing growl.
"I thought you might be hungry, since you missed dinner," Lorenzo approached the counter and Briar flinched away. Lorenzo frowned when he saw the untouched dish. "Do you not eat- ... ah, I guess I don't know what you like. That’s just the leftovers from tonight, but there are other things in the fridge …"
Briar edged towards the dish of salmon. "I can ... eat this?"
"Of course! I left it for you," Lorenzo looked quizzical as he bent down and picked up the note.
Meanwhile, Briar snatched the plate to his chest, peeling back the plastic wrap and digging into the salmon ravenously with his fingers. Even though it was cold, the food tasted like the best Briar had ever eaten.
“You should slow down before you choke.”
Seeing Lorenzo’s smile, Briar flushed in embarrassment, pausing mid-chew. When Lorenzo walked to the dining table, Briar followed, hugging the plate to his chest as he cautiously lowered himself into the chair across from his master. The plate was almost clean at this point, but Briar forced himself to finish the last of the food with dainty, deliberate bites. Across the table, Lorenzo yawned, running one hand through his sleep-mussed hair.
Hunching over instinctively, Briar rasped, "sorry."
"For what?"
"Missing dinner ... waking you ..."
"Don't worry about it," Lorenzo said with a gentle smile. "I'm just happy you liked the food - it’s been a while since I’ve cooked for anyone but myself. Maybe it was presumptuous to assume that just because cats like ... well, maybe you could tell me what you like, and I’ll try making that?"
Briar's ears flicked with shy surprise. No master had ever asked him what he liked to eat before. He wasn't really sure to be honest - he just knew what he didn’t like, which included both the flavorless nutrient paste they fed hybrids at the agency, and the weird protein smoothies the brothel had made him drink. The kibble hadn’t been bad, though.
“... well think about it,” Lorenzo smiled, seemingly unbothered by the lack of response. He glanced at the clock. "I should ... try to catch a few more hours before work tomorrow. You think you'll be alright here?"
Briar nodded earnestly, looking up from licking his fingers clean. A strange look crossed Lorenzo’s face then, and he colored before glancing away.
"Okay. Just throw the dishes in the sink and turn off the light when you're done." As he passed Briar, Lorenzo slowly lowered his hand over Briar's head, giving the catboy ample time to move away.
Though his first instinct was just that, Briar forced himself to remain still, and was rewarded with a brief, warm pat on the head.
"Good night Briar," Lorenzo said with a lingering smile before he continued into his bedroom.
Briar watched after his master, wondering at the tentative warmth filling his chest. It was dangerous to hope, but …
That night, Briar returned to his borrowed room, more secure in the assurance that he wouldn't be disturbed. It was easier to fall asleep with a full belly.
–
The next morning, Briar found the apartment empty when he left his room. Another wrapped plate had been left on the counter, and this time, it was accompanied by a note with a drawing of a smiling cat face. On it were crispy, buttery pancakes, which Briar took with him to nibble on as he explored his new surroundings.
Lorenzo's house was not as large as some places Briar had been kept, but it had a nice, peaceful air, with high ceilings and wood-paneled walls. In the living room, floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the space in golden sunshine, and alluringly overstuffed couches just begged for a nap. The main room opened to the balcony which Briar stepped onto trepidatiously, propping his elbows on the railing to peer curiously over the surrounding area.
The neighborhood was quiet, surrounded by similarly compact houses with neat little yards. Closing his eyes, Briar enjoyed the breeze ruffling through his fur for a few minutes before reluctantly returning inside.
Downstairs, Briar found an extradorinaiy room - one filled with books, shelves of them, reaching to the ceiling and stacked in tall piles against the wall. Reverently, Briar walked among the shelves, running his finger over rows and rows of leather spines, but couldn't summon the courage to pull any out.
The bookshelves fanned around a large wooden desk which dominated the room, behind which sat an equally imposing red velvet chair. Neither looked as well-used as the faded leather recliner in front of the fireplace, though, the side table of which was cluttered with abandoned, half-full cups of tea.
Lorenzo seemed to enjoy collecting things more than organizing them - every surface, including empty spaces on the bookshelves, was filled with papers and plants, interspersed with colorful little trinkets which Briar inspected carefully. A few photos hung on the walls - Lorenzo in the wilderness or among city ruins, smiling while surrounded by other humans in hiking gear. In many, he had his arm around a striking, dark-haired woman.
Something queer stirred in Briar’s stomach. He remembered what Lorenzo had said in the interview, that he was interested in Briar because he resembled someone … was it this woman? Did Lorenzo love her? If Briar was just the replacement, what would happen if she ever came back?
Shaking his head firmly, Briar forced himself to stop these distressing thoughts. The ache in Briar’s gut persisted, however. Annoyed at himself, Briar walked to the recliner and dropped into it, nestling himself into the well-worn grooves, warm from the pane of sunshine cast by the window.
Ah … this was the scent that had drawn Briar to the room yesterday - the same which he had smelled on Lorenzo - coffee and cardamom, leather and ink. His master evidently spent a lot of time in this room, in this chair.
Briar buried his face in the butter-soft headrest and breathed in with a little shiver of his tail. Even if Briar’s mind was still wary of his new master, despite the kindness Lorenzo had displayed last night, Briar’s body was emphatic in its attraction to the man.
That didn’t mean much, in the grand scheme of things. Catkin were made to be easy, built to crave touch. Even if he had been hideous, Lorenzo was still Briar’s master, and could use him any way he saw fit.
But for just a little while, it was nice to linger in the seat his master seemed so fond of, letting the sun-warmed leather wrap around him like a hug.
–
In the afternoon, Briar did a little housekeeping. He had been instructed in cleaning by the Katos, who were quite firm on their standards for cleanliness. Lorenzo, judging by the number of empty mugs littering the house, was less so. His master hadn’t said anything to Briar about his expectations thereof, but surely it was implied by the way he had left Briar free reign of the house? Briar’s previous owner, who contracted housekeeping, would always lock Briar in the bedroom during the work day to keep him from getting underfoot.
There was much for Briar to occupy himself with - dusting, clearing clutter and collecting the stray mugs and washing them. It calmed a little of his anxiety to be useful - surely it would please his master to return to a clean, cozy house? Perhaps it would make up for the terrible impression Briar had left yesterday. Perhaps Lorenzo would praise him and stroke his head again.
Briar flushed at the memory and wiped furiously at the kitchen counter until the heat left his face.
–
“So you did it - you got the catboy?” Maria asked excitedly. “I need pictures! I deserve pictures after listening to you ramble about your stupid hybrid facts for months.”
“Every responsible pet owner should do research before adopting,” Lorenzo said sternly, looking up from his menu. “It would save a lot of-”
“Yeah, but the amount of reading you did was pathological,” Maria muttered, taking a sip of her mimosa. “Fucking nerd.”
With Briar’s arrival, Lorenzo had completely forgotten that today was his regular monthly brunch with his sister. He had been torn on leaving Briar in the house alone so soon after he just arrived, but Lorenzo had already rescheduled on Maria three times and a fourth would be asking for certain death.
“Anyway, pictures,” Maria slammed her palm on the table impetuously.
“He’s still settling in, Maria. I haven’t exactly had time to ask him for a photoshoot.” Sighing at Maria’s stubborn expression, Lorenzo pulled up the picture of Briar from his agency file. It was as flattering a shot as they could get, Lorenzo supposed. Briar wasn't smiling, but he wasn't curled into himself defensively either - the catboy wore a melancholy expression as he gazed out of the window, hands folded pensively beneath his chin. Briar probably hadn't even realized he was being photographed.
“Oh what a cutie,” Maria cooed. “But so skinny - you’d better be feeding him!”
“I’m trying,” Lorenzo smiled, his eyes lingering on the picture before he slid the phone back in his pants. “He’s still pretty skittish.”
“So was my Pino,” Maria said confidently, nails tapping against her mimosa glass. “But he warmed right up with a bit of affection.” The fox-like puppyboy was Maria’s pride and joy - pictures of him certainly filled up most of her socials.
Lorenzo’s smile turned rueful as he thought of Pino’s eager adoration for Maria - it would be nice if Briar learned to tolerate Lorenzo before their probationary period expired. “I hope so.”
Maria’s expression softened. “Hey - I think this boy will be good for you. I know it’s been a while since Tara … but she would probably want you to be happy.”
“You and I both know how possessive Tara was. She's probably prefer me to be alone and pining for her forever,” Lorenzo laughed, but the knot in his chest which usually accompanied thoughts about Tara eased a little.
For the first time in a long while, Lorenzo felt eager to return home.
–
But it wouldn’t be that easy.
Just as he was signing for the check, Lorenzo received an urgent call from the Chair. As usual, despite Lorenzo’s requested vacation time, the History Department was just imploding without him, the students were rioting over their midterms, the assistant professors were plotting mutiny due to changes in teaching requirements and since Lorenzo was up for tenure, he could hardly refuse their demand that he show up to put out all the fires.
By the time Lorenzo pulled into his driveway, the sky was dropping dark. It had been much longer than Lorenzo had meant to leave Briar alone, and he couldn’t help but fret as he hurried to the door.
How was Briar feeling? Had he recovered from his drowsiness and nausea? Did he eat the breakfast Lorenzo made? Did he like it? What if he tried to climb the bookshelf again and slipped? What if he had snuck outside and gotten lost?
“Briar?” Lorenzo called out worriedly as he opened the door.
At first glance, it didn’t seem as if any terrible catastrophe had taken place. Most everything was as Lorenzo had left it, if not a little cleaner. The counters were shining, papers normally in disarray had been gathered into neat little piles, and the clutter of shoes by the door had been returned neatly to their rack.
Brow furrowing, Lorenzo unstrapped his messenger bag from his shoulder and dropped it to the ground as he stepped inside.
“Briar?” He called again. “Where are-”
Then Lorenzo stepped into the kitchen. Right into a big, sudsy puddle.
“Cazzo!” Lorenzo gasped, lifting a drenched foot. Water covered the entire floor, slopping over the tile and even seeping through the doorway to the dining room.
And kneeling in the middle of it all was Briar, looking on the verge of a panic attack as he desperately tried to sop up the torrent spouting from a furiously beeping dishwasher. At Lorenzo’s approach, Briar froze, ears flattening against his skull as he slowly raised his eyes to meet his master’s gaze.
“I’m sorry,” Briar rasped, and burst into tears.
–
Briar was shivering, soaked through with greasy dish water. Lorenzo shooed the poor boy away to take a shower before rolling up his pant legs and wading into the thick of it.
The problem, Lorenzo discovered quickly, was that Briar had used dish soap instead of dishwasher soap. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Lorenzo called the plumber and grabbed every towel he owned, spreading it over the kitchen floor until it all resembled a terrycloth swamp.
When Lorenzo was finished, he looked up to see Briar lingering by the doorway, freshly showered and wearing nothing but the old shirt that Lorenzo had left out for him. It fell nearly to his knees, yet still exposed far too much of Briar’s long, pale legs.
“The shorts were too big,” Briar said in a small voice, as if this was yet another infraction to be added to his record.
“That’s fine,” Lorenzo said, valiantly keeping his eyes above Briar’s shoulders. He really needed to get the kid some more clothes - some modest clothing, for Lorenzo’s own sanity. “Let’s just… get to bed. There’s nothing else we can do here tonight, and you look exhausted.” Lorenzo certainly was.
Uncertainty flickered across Briar’s face and his knuckles grew white as he gripped the door jam. “Will you … punish me tomorrow?”
Lorenzo blinked. “Punish you?”
“I broke it … and-and the water …”
A protective compulsion made Lorenzo step forward, but he halted upon seeing Briar’s flinch. “I’m not going to punish you, Briar,” he said firmly, suppressing a surge of anger towards Briar’s former masters. “You just made a mistake, with good intentions.” Lorenzo's voice grew gentle. “I saw that you were doing a little tidying around here - that’s a big help, thank you.”
Briar ducked his head, ears flicking uncertainly as his tail wrapped around his ankles. Likely weighing whether he could believe Lorenzo’s words. Raising his eyes to meet Lorenzo’s, Briar spoke haltingly, "I’d … rather you punish me than send me back.”
Oh.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Lorenzo forced out, grabbing the wrist of one hand in the other behind his back to keep from sweeping Briar into an unwanted hug. “I promise - I won’t send you back for this or any other mistake, okay?”
Briar’s eyes searched Lorenzo’s for a long moment before the boy dropped his head, giving a barely perceptible nod.
Lorenzo decided to take a chance, slowly reaching out his hand towards Briar’s head, just like last night, giving the boy plenty of forewarning to pull away. Thankfully, he didn't. Lorenzo smiled when he felt Briar’s silky curls beneath his palm, and a warmth spread through his body when Briar pushed into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut.
“But I don’t deserve it,” Briar murmured, his lashes a dark crescent over his pale cheeks.
You deserve the world, Lorenzo didn’t say, smiling sadly as he slid his hand away.
–
Briar decided to make himself scarce for the rest of the week - trying not to trouble his master more than he already had. Perhaps if he stayed small and quiet and made himself useful, Lorenzo would … forget he was there? It didn’t make much sense when Briar thought about it either, but it was all he could think of to do.
Master had promised not to send him back “for any other mistakes”, but that still left a variety of ways for Briar to disappoint him. And, much more than the other masters, Briar found that he didn’t want to disappoint Lorenzo.
Like with the touching - Briar could see how careful Lorenzo was forcing himself to be, barely initiating affection except for brief headpats, treating Briar like he was something fragile that would break at a touch. No master would keep a catkin he couldn’t even pet! Briar couldn’t help but feel like it was all his fault.
It made it worse, how much Briar was growing like his new home, his new master. Briar kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but thus far it still hung suspended, a pendulum swinging above his head.
–
“To be clear, I don’t expect you to do the housework,” Lorenzo said, once the plumber-woman had fixed everything and the kitchen was finally dry again. “But just so you know, this soap is what you use with the dishwasher.”
Briar nodded quickly, committing the bottle’s shape and color to memory.
“Briar …” Lorenzo got that worried expression again, the one which put a little wrinkle between his eyebrows, and that he often wore around Briar. “Do you know how to read?”
“They tried to teach us, at the agency,” Briar pulled at the end of his sleeve nervously, unconsciously worrying at the seam. “I … I was too slow at it? They said I was probably too old to learn.” Yet another failure - would Briar ever be able to show his master his good qualities? If he even had any.
Lorenzo looked thoughtful. “Were there any other catkin in the class with you?”
Wondering where this line of questioning was leading, Briar squinted. “A few?” Most had refused the classes altogether, since they didn’t really need them. No one adopted a catkin for clerical work, after all.
Lorenzo grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something on it in large block letters before holding it in front of Briar’s face. “Can you tell me what you see when you try to read this?”
Briar glanced up at Lorenzo warily, wondering if it was all some mean game. With a sigh, Briar squinted at the piece of paper. “It’s like … the letters are sliding off the page,” he said after a moment. “I … I try to focus but when I have one word pinned down, the rest get all squirmy.”
Lorenzo nodded. “Is it better when you try to read type?”
“Sometimes?” Briar shrugged, struggling to explain himself. “Some … word shapes stay still more still than others.”
A smile broke over Lorenzo’s face, and he patted Briar’s head. “You’re not slow, sweetheart. You have a type of feline dyslexia. Very common among catkin - hence the name.”
Briar blinked, too distracted by the touch and accidental endearment to understand.
“Let me explain,” Lorenzo said, sinking into the couch beside Briar. “It’s like … some parts of you are more like your host species, and it varies by each individual hybrid. Cat eyes - like, from real cats - aren’t made for reading, they’re made for hunting, specialized to detect movement at distance, even among thick brush.” Lorenzo gestured excitedly. “It’s something that can be bred out by specialists, but catkin whose eyes are more cat-like, as it were, often have trouble focusing on detailed, static images.” Briar lost the thread at this point, even though Lorenzo continued talking.
It was the first time Briar had seen his master so animated, so bright-eyed and confident as he lost himself in his explanation. It certainly suited him more than that furrowed-brow worry.
When he realized that Briar was staring at him, Lorenzo’s voice petered off sheepishly. “Anyway,” he cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to teach you how to read, if you wanted.”
“Do you … want me to learn how to read?”
“Um,” Lorenzo blinked. “I suppose it makes no difference to me, really. It will require hard work to be sure, though there are ways to make it easier, given your condition. But not necessary if you’re not interested. It’s really up to you.”
Briar began plucking at his sleeves again, searching Lorenzo’s face for the right answer. Even though his master’s tone didn’t make the question sound like a test, it could still be a test. Briar had long learned that when a master asked his opinion, what they really expected was for him to guess the conclusion they had already come to, and repeat it back. Lorenzo obviously loved books - he had a whole room of them! - so maybe he would find Briar more interesting if they could talk about the books together. On the other hand, Lorenzo had mentioned learning to read would be hard work - so that meant that teaching Briar would also be hard work, right? Maybe his master would begin their lessons with optimism, but then he’d probably grow frustrated with how slow Briar was - the agency’s hired tutor certainly did.
Lorenzo must have sensed Briar’s inner turmoil because he got that worried expression again, now accompanied by his calm-down smile. “It’s fine - you don’t have to choose now. Just, um, let me know if you’re interested sometime.”
And that had ended that conversation, to Briar’s relief. Though, that afternoon he found himself wandering into the empty study and sitting himself on the floor, gazing thoughtfully over the stacks and stacks of books.
–
At first, Briar thought that Lorenzo didn’t fuck him because his master was still secretly angry about the dishwasher incident. But as the days went on, Briar began to worry that his master actually didn’t want him sexually at all.
That wasn’t unheard of - the Katos had had no interest in this area, but Briar had been a kitten at the time. Another of Briar’s previous adopters had also stopped fucking him once she got a girlfriend. But Lorenzo had no romantic partner that Briar knew of. Though - Briar thought with a familiar ache in his stomach - there was the matter of the dark-haired woman. Perhaps Lorenzo was still pining after her.
Or perhaps he was just one of those non-sexual humans.
It was just so frustrating because Briar liked it when Lorenzo touched him - Briar had enjoyed some of what the other masters did to him, but he never remembered being so hungry for their affection.
The headpats had grown more frequent, whenever Briar did something good, or even if he was just near when Lorenzo was in a pleasant mood. Briar had taken to surreptitiously following Lorenzo from room to room, always lounging near in hopes of some spontaneous affection. Lorenzo seemed to like it as well - his calm-down smile was more frequently replaced by a real smile, which crinkled his eyes at the corners and made Briar’s tail curl happily.
Once, when they were watching a movie, Briar had dared to slide closer and closer on the couch until their thighs were brushing. Then, when there was a startling moment, Briar had hugged Lorenzo’s arm like he was scared. And it worked! Lorenzo even put his arm around Briar and half-hugged him though the rest of the movie.
Briar had touched himself rather desperately that night, a drool-damp corner of the pillow clenched between his teeth to muffle his mewls.
Frustrating.
Catkin were often stereotyped to be flirtatious and promiscuous, with high libidos. Briar had received nothing but complaints from previous owners, who called him aloof and skittish. One of the masters had liked that, though, and ordered Briar to struggle and scream in bed.
Briar didn’t think that Lorenzo would want that, though he would do whatever his master asked of him at this point.
Sometimes, Lorenzo would look at Briar in such a way - with such heat and longing - like Briar was some delicious food locked behind a store window, and it would get Briar’s hopes up that Lorenzo would finally, finally bend him over the couch.
But it never happened.
Briar wanted to cry with frustration. If only his master would fuck him, Briar thought, then he would see how good and accommodating and useful Briar could be.
Then Lorenzo would finally have a good reason to keep him.
–
Lorenzo woke in the darkness, disoriented by a sudden shift in his bed.
“Master?” Briar’s voice, hushed and hesitant. “Can I … I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh,” Lorenzo said dumbly. As his eyes adjusted, Lorenzo could see the dim outline of Briar poised on the edge of the bed. “Uh … you want to sleep with me?”
“If that’s … I mean …” The dim shape of Briar ducked his head, and Lorenzo would have given anything to have had catkin night vision at this moment to read Briar’s expression.
“Oh - yeah, yeah that’s fine.” Lorenzo said quickly, moving to the edge of the bed. “Did you have a nightmare?”
His only answer was a rustle as Briar slipped beneath the sheets. Lorenzo swallowed, hoping that Briar’s cat eyes couldn’t see how flushed Lorenzo had grown just by feeling the heat of Briar’s body through the sliver of space which separated them.
Stop, Lorenzo groaned internally. His pet needed comfort, but all Lorenzo could think of was how good Briar smelled, how beautiful he was when he smiled, how silky-soft his fur felt beneath Lorenzo’s fingers during the brief touches Lorenzo allowed himself.
It had been torture, the last couple of days, especially, with Briar all soft-eyed and affectionate. Lorenzo was delighted that Briar was growing more comfortable with him, and he really didn’t want to fuck up the fragile trust they had managed to build.
Trust that would be shattered if Briar had any inkling of the depth of Lorenzo’s want.
If Lorenzo had thought Briar was beautiful at the adoption agency, the boy had only grown moreso since. With a proper diet, Briar had filled out attractively, his fur grown sleek and thick, his skin glowing from long, indulgent naps on the balcony - most importantly, the haunted look in Briar’s eyes had all but vanished. Lorenzo admired Briar’s progress, how quickly the boy had come out of his shell, how he managed to grow more devastatingly loveable every single day. Whenever Briar smiled, Lorenzo felt butterflies - butterflies! - in his stomach, like some schoolboy with a crush.
But Lorenzo had also accepted that he would wait months - years, even, to act on his attraction. Maybe he would never. And Lorenzo was okay with that, because his need to protect Briar came before everything. With all the boy had gone through …
Lorenzo had read through the file the agency provided, and it was clear that ownership of Briar had changed hands many times. Predictably, the names and addresses of his former owners had been redacted, but some failed placements left comments which were equally infuriating and saddening to read. Some of Briar’s adopters had been abusive assholes, some just misguided, but all had apparently decided that Briar’s shyness and fear of abandonment were just too much to deal with.
Idiots, all of them.
“Master?” Briar whispered.
Lorenzo’s mouth grew dry as he felt Briar’s legs slide hesitantly against his own, then Briar’s slim fingers circling Lorenzo’s wrists, pulling Lorenzo’s hands to his waist as Briar pressed their bodies together.
“You … you can do anything you want to me …” Briar whispered hotly in Lorenzo’s ear. “If you want my mouth, or my-”
Fuck.
Lorenzo exhaled, pushing Briar away though it felt physically painful. “Briar, you’re trembling. Why are you forcing yourself to do this?”
“What-”
Lorenzo sat up and switched on the light on his bed table. Briar flinched, squinting. To Lorenzo’s horror, Briar’s shoulders were hunched around his ears, his eyes wide and teary.
"Why don't you want to fuck me?" Briar forced out, his voice brittle.
Lorenzo sighed. "Briar - do you want to have sex with me?"
Briar's brows knitted as if no one had ever posed that question to him before. "That's what you got me for, isn't it?"
“But Briar, if you don’t want-”
“Stop!” Briar cried, making Lorenzo freeze. Tears were rolling freely down the catboy's cheeks. “Stop asking me what I want - just tell me what I need to say for you to … to …”
Lorenzo’s chest ached as he watched Briar fold over his knees, sobbing as if his little heart was breaking.
“Oh Briar,” Lorenzo said quietly, grabbing a box of tissues and, after a second of hesitation, moving to take Briar into his arms. The boy melted at his touch, hiding his face in the front of Lorenzo’s shirt. “Shh …” Lorenzo pressed a kiss to Briar’s forehead, gently wiping away the boy’s tears until his crying quieted into hiccuping whimpers. Only then did Lorenzo carefully pose his question. “Briar … has anyone ever asked you if you wanted sex before?”
“I’m … I’m not a kitten okay?” Briar said fitfully, his words muffled by Lorenzo’s chest. “I like being fucked! … sometimes, anyway.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Lorenzo said, gently petting a hand down Briar’s shuddering back.
Briar shrugged, shoving away from Lorenzo. His eyes were dull, his ears drooping. “What does it matter?”
“It matters to me,” Lorenzo slid a knuckle under Briar’s chin, lifting the boy’s eyes up to meet his gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I know you won’t,” Briar whispered, making Lorenzo smile sadly.
“I want you to want this … want me. Not out of obligation, or fear of being returned. I want you to be able to say it.”
Briar pressed his lips together, dropping his gaze.
Lorenzo brushed a hand through Briar’s curls. “Maybe … you just aren’t used to thinking about what you want? Saying what you want?”
“I … don’t know.”
“Let’s start with something simple,” Lorenzo said quietly. “Would you like to stay here tonight?”
Briar’s gaze skittered around the bed before returning to Lorenzo. “I … yes?” He swallowed. “Please?”
Lorenzo smiled, warmth swelling in his chest. “Okay,” he said evenly, drawing Briar warmly into his arms before reaching to flip off the light, casting the room back into darkness.
–
Lorenzo started asking Briar to make more decisions - small things, at first. Would he like pasta or rice for dinner? Chicken or beef? What movie should they watch? What music should they listen to?
Then, a week later, Briar approached Lorenzo in his study with a determined look on his face. “I want to learn how to read,” Briar said in a tremulous voice, the very first request he ever made of his own volition.
“That's wonderful!” Lorenzo exclaimed, standing from his seat in excitement and upsetting a whole sheaf of papers which scattered over the floor. Briar startled at the mess, but looked pleased when Lorenzo pulled him into a hug, nuzzling shyly at Lorenzo’s neck with rumbling little purrs.
–
Two days later, at the grocery store, Briar tugged trepidatiously on Lorenzo’s jacket sleeve:
“Can we … salmon … again?” At Lorenzo’s quizzical look, Briar flushed, taking a quick breath: “I-I want salmon for dinner. Please?”
“Sounds good,” Lorenzo answered calmly, restraining himself from piling Briar with pets and praise in the middle of the freezer aisle. “Let's do it.”
Briar nodded, the brightness of his smile threatening to eclipse the florescent lights.
–
Then - later that night.
“I want a kiss,” Briar whispered, before burying his burning face in the front of Lorenzo’s shirt.
“Oh.” Lorenzo said dumbly, fumbling the book he had been reading to Briar. The study recliner creaked under their combined weight - what had started as Briar perching on the armrest had migrated into him sitting fully on Lorenzo’s lap for their reading lesson, a progression both adorable and torturous in equal measures.
Briar’s ears flicked nervously as he peeked up at Lorenzo from beneath his eyelashes. “No?”
“Yes, yes of course,” Lorenzo said hurriedly, setting the book on the counter with a clatter. Swallowing, Lorenzo gently cupped the sides of Briar’s face, brushing his silky black curls from his eyes. “If … you’re sure about this.”
Briar wrinkled his nose in annoyance and Lorenzo laughed.
“Sorry, sorry - I’m not condescending you. I’m just …” Lorenzo shrugged, feeling staggered by his fondness for his boy. Slowly, he lowered his face towards Briar’s - watching the catboy’s eyes slide closed, feeling the heat of his gentle exhale.
Briar’s lips were soft, sweeter than Lorenzo had ever dared to dream of. Lorenzo tried to leave it at just a brief peck, but when he pulled away, Briar wrapped his arms around Lorenzo’s neck and pulled him back, releasing a purring, rumbling moan. And Lorenzo was lost - losing his grip on restraint as he finally, finally tasted his Briar’s small, silk-hot mouth. It was a sharp kiss - clumsy and eager, nipping fangs and sandpaper-rough tongue - but no less precious for it.
“Briar,” Lorenzo groaned, hands falling to Briar’s waist, fingers digging into his hips.
Briar purred and purred, seemingly unconsciously, vibrating like a little motor on Lorenzo’s lap.
–
The next days passed quickly, the most blissful in Briar’s memory.
After that first taste, Briar couldn’t get enough - and fortunately it seemed like his master felt the same way. One minute, they would be chatting as usual, and the next they would be tangled in each other - in the kitchen, on the study desk, atop the balcony railing with the wind ruffling Briar’s fur.
And when Lorenzo was away, it seemed that Briar thought of nothing but him - his scent, his voice, his large, warm hands. The novelty of asking, the power his master - his strange master! - allowed Briar made him bold, made him yearn after Lorenzo like he had no other. The kindness he fed Briar like sweet nectar, the safety Briar felt in his arms …
If Briar was a human, perhaps he could call this love. But pets couldn’t claim that emotion. Pets could feel affection, yes, and trust. But love came with expectations - expectations that pets were not allowed to demand of their masters.
The fear of abandonment, thoughts of the looming end of his probationary period came less and and less frequently to Briar’s mind. Part of him knew how dangerous that was, but Briar couldn’t bring himself to care. It felt as if all of his defenses had already dissolved like candy floss, and there was no rebuilding them from there.
–
Curled up on the couch one night, Briar finally summoned the courage to ask the question that had been haunting him.
“Master?”
“Hm?” Lorenzo opened his eyes - it had been a long day and he was dozing, his thumb rubbing little circles over Briar’s ankle.
“When you adopted me … at the interview you said ...” Briar took a breath, forcing his words out before they failed him. “Who did I remind you of?”
Who am I a replacement for? He really wanted to ask. Is it really her that you love?
Briar didn’t have the right of this possessiveness, he knew. With no other master would he have even dared to ask the question.
“Oh,” Lorenzo’s expression grew rueful. Briar’s ears flickered with alarm when Lorenzo brushed Briar’s legs off of his lap, an apology springing to his lips. But Lorenzo just stood and walked across the room, returning with a framed photo. “This is Tamora,” he said softly, sinking back onto the couch next to Briar.
Briar blinked at the picture of an ink-black, long-haired cat with startling green eyes. She was curled up on Lorenzo’s recliner, looking at the camera with a disdainful air.
Lorenzo smiled distantly, rubbing a thumb over the edge of the frame. “She died about a year ago now. But she’d been with me about twenty years before that. Sassy little queen - I still miss her.”
Leaning against Lorenzo’s arm, Briar nuzzled his face into his master’s shoulder. “You thought … I looked like her?”
“Just superficially,” Lorenzo smiled, wrapping an arm around Briar’s waist and pressing a kiss to his temple. “I guess I do have a thing for green eyes, after all.” Seeing Briar’s expression, Lorenzo inclined his head. “Sorry I didn’t talk about this before … were you worried about it?”
“I thought it was the woman in your photos,” Briar said in a rush, his ears growing hot from embarrassment.
“The woman … oh.”
Briar stiffened as Lorenzo started laughing.
“Sorry, sorry,” Lorenzo said hurriedly, stroking Briar nape until he relaxed again. “That’s - well Maria’s going to get a kick out of this. She’s my sister.” Lorenzo suddenly grimaced. “God, I’m going to have to introduce you two, aren’t I?”
–
“Good night, Briar,” Lorenzo panted, pressing a last, chaste kiss to his boy’s pouting mouth as he surreptitiously adjusted himself in his pajama pants. Flipping open the blankets, Lorenzo prepared to slip out to the bathroom. He needed to get a hand on himself before he exploded.
“Master?” Briar’s thready voice made Lorenzo turn back. A mistake, since the sight of his pet with rumpled hair and kiss-swollen lips nearly made his knees buckle.
“Yes?”
“I,” Briar took a deep breath, the gleam of something steely entering his eye. “I want … you. Tonight.”
Lorenzo had been anticipating this night for so long, dreaming about it, but he forced himself to move slowly despite his pounding heart, returning to Briar, nested in the blankets.
“Unless you don’t …” Worry crossed Briar’s face, and Lorenzo clasped the boy’s face between his palms, kissing him deeply. If there was one thing Briar should worry about in this world, it wouldn’t be this, it would never be this.
“Yes,” Lorenzo said, whole-heartedly. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”
–
Briar felt as if his skin was shimmering, every place his master’s large hands touched him bursting into a point of brilliant light. He cried out, arching as Lorenzo’s mouth found his nipple, his master’s hot tongue circling the tight bud.
"That’s it," Lorenzo murmured, stroking warmly down the curve of Briar's spine as he encouraged Briar to straddle his thigh.
Oh it felt so good - had anything ever felt so good? The rumbling in Briar's throat grew louder as he arched against Lorenzo's thigh, grinding his sopping front hole and throbbing cock against the hard muscle. In the darkness, under the humid covers, Briar felt so safe. His usual anxiety about being looked at and judged didn't exist here - like Briar had disappeared entirely and become a being of pure sensation, touching and being touched, completely surrounded by his master's warmth.
"That's right, sweet boy," Lorenzo breathed against Briar's flicking ear. "Take what you need." Lorenzo lowered the hand clasping Briar's waist to the curve of his ass, squeezing it firmly as he helped Briar find his rhythm.
"M-master," Briar arched, shuddering when Lorenzo nibbled the edge of his sensitive ear.
"So soft," Lorenzo sighed, releasing Briar's ear to pepper his face with kisses. "You feel so perfect."
The knowledge that he was pleasing to his master made Briar's whole body heat to a whole new level. And oh, Briar could feel the evidence of this digging into the bottom of his stomach - so hot, thick and heavy. Squeezing his thighs around Lorenzo's, Briar began rutting in earnest, releasing embarrassing little gasps as he neared his peak. Hungrily, Lorenzo reclaimed Briar's mouth, biting the sweet noises from his lips.
Briar's body jerked as he felt a squeeze at the base of his tail, and thick fingers sliding down his cleft.
"Oh - oooooh," Briar cried as he came from just the rub of Lorenzo's fingers at the entrance of his tailhole. And his master, wonderful master, held Briar as he shuddered to pieces.
–
“You’ve grown spoiled,” Lorenzo said, sounding delighted as Briar demanded kiss after kiss, languidly getting in the way of Lorenzo attempting to remove his clothes.
“I like the way you feel,” Briar purred as he rubbed his finally nude body against his master’s. Lorenzo had fur as well, Briar was excited to note, a smatter of curls over his chest, a trail across his navel and more, coarse and springy, at the base of his cock.
“Briar,” Lorenzo choked as Briar fondled his erection, allowing it only a few minutes before pulling Briar’s hands away. He kissed away Briar’s disappointed little sound. “You’re going to make me come,” Lorenzo’s heavy breaths thrilled Briar, as did his tight grip on Briar’s wrists. “And unlike you, sweet boy, I’m not built for short refractory periods.”
“I like it when you call me that,” Briar wriggled forward in Lorenzo’s grip, biting his master’s neck and making him groan. “I want you to call me that more.”
“Sweet boy?” Lorenzo’s expression grew gentle, and he released Briar’s hands to clasp him around the waist, covering his face with kisses. “That’s what you are - my sweet boy, my sweet pet.”
Briar shuddered at the possessive words, his tail lashing in the air. “Please - I … I want you to fuck me!”
Lorenzo groaned. “You’re going to be the death of me.” His fingers slipped over Briar’s aching cock, playing with the slick dripping from Briar’s front hole.
Briar froze.
“What’s wrong?” Lorenzo stopped immediately, pushing himself off of Briar’s body.
Briar bit his lip. “Can I … can I say something I don’t want?”
“Of course!” Lorenzo stammered. “If you want to stop-”
“I … don’t want to be fucked in my front hole,” Briar said, his voice tremulous. “I don’t like it. It always hurts.”
“Of course,” Lorenzo answered immediately, searching Briar’s face. “Should I stop touching it?”
“No,” Briar’s face heated, so easily embarrassed despite all that they had done. “I like your fingers.”
“Hmm.” Lorenzo’s tone turned warm as he trailed his hand down Briar’s jumping stomach. “Would you like them now?”
“Y-yes!” Briar cried, arching when he felt Lorenzo’s fingers pet over his cock, stroking it firmly between his thumb and forefinger while his pinky circled Briar’s twitching lips. “You can- … in-inside-”
“Hold up your legs,” Lorenzo rasped, the unfamiliar harshness of his tone sending a thrill up Briar’s spine. Oh, he would like it if Lorenzo gave him more orders like that …
He would ask for it later, Briar thought, suddenly breathless at the world of possibility that Lorenzo had gifted him.
Sliding his hands beneath his knees, Briar eagerly folded himself in half, demonstrating the flexibility that catkin were so well known for.
“Beautiful,” Lorenzo murmured, pressing a kiss to Briar’s gasping mouth. “My good boy.”
Briar’s entire body shuddered at the praise, and he wondered if Lorenzo knew how much he liked it. Lorenzo must have, because he continued lavishing Briar with approval - sweet and filthy - as he began stretching Briar’s tail hole. He didn’t even need lube, Briar was so wet, slick gushing from his front hole as Lorenzo expertly stroked Briar’s dick.
“Oh Briar,” Lorenzo sighed, looking into Briar’s eyes as he at last kissed the head of his cock against the entrance of Briar’s tail hole. “Tell me again - are you sure you want this?”
“More than I’ve ever wanted anything,” Briar declared, making Lorenzo smile - a true, beautiful smile.
Lorenzo was so gentle as he entered that it broke Briar’s heart, the way he treated Briar’s used, defective body like it was something precious, something he was honored to hold in his hands. Centimeter by torturous centimeter, Lorenzo rocked inside, kissing Briar as the boy shuddered from the sweet burn.
“I love you, sweet boy,” Lorenzo murmured against Briar’s lips. So softly that Briar almost didn’t catch it, even with his sensitive hearing. “You don’t have to say it back, I-”
“I love you,” Briar cried, his toes curling as he felt Lorenzo seat himself deep inside.
–
"You like that, don't you, sweet boy," Lorenzo panted, fucking his thumb in and out of Briar's gushy front hole as he fucked Briar's ass in the same rhythm. "Being stuffed so full?"
"Yessss," Briar slurred, his thighs twitching weakly. His fingers were growing slippery beneath the crease of his knees, and his arms were trembling from the strain but he continued holding his legs open, presenting all of himself to master.
"Such a good boy," Lorenzo grunted, his thrusts growing deep and hard, plowing Briar's ass like he wanted to impregnate him. Briar could hardly recognize his normally gentle master. The man looming over him looked like a wild thing - teeth bared, sweat-slick hair plastered to his forehead, eyes dark and shining, looking at Briar like Lorenzo wanted to eat him /whole/.
"Master!" Briar gasped, so filled with adoration he felt as though he might burst with it.
Lorenzo slid his thumb out of Briar's front hole, shushing his boy's whimper of loss as he replaced it with fingers. Two, then three, stretching Briar to his limit, making him wail and squirm. Hungrily, Briar's master claimed his mouth, swallowing his screams.
Oh, Briar was so full ... so, so-
Briar came harder than he ever had in his life, filled with his master in every orifice - his tongue, his fingers, his cock.
Groaning, Lorenzo pumped all he had left into Briar's spasming hole.
–
"Do you feel okay?" Lorenzo asked quietly. "I wasn't ... too rough?"
Briar shook his head fervently, burying his face in Lorenzo's neck as he clung to his master like a limpet. "I ... liked it," he confessed shyly into his master's ear. "You can ... um, more if you want."
Lorenzo groaned, drawing Briar to him tightly. "Sweet boy," he sighed, kissing Briar's soft mouth again and again. "My sweet, beautiful boy."
--
When Briar's eyes drifted open that morning, it was to see Lorenzo propped up on his elbow next to him. The look on his master's face was so fond that it made Briar's entire body flush, remembering how well used he had been last night. Part of him still didn't really believe that he deserved this, part of him was still afraid it would all disappear one day.
Wriggling closer, Briar arched forward for a kiss, allowing the warmth of his master's mouth chase away the shadow of his doubts.
"Good morning, sweet boy," Lorenzo murmured against Briar's lips. Briar purred as he felt Lorenzo's hand carding through his hair.
"I want pancakes for breakfast," Briar threw his thigh over Lorenzo's hip, sealing the front of their bodies together. The feeling of Lorenzo's hard cock digging into the bottom of his belly made Briar breathless. "I ... I want to fuck first, though ... please?"
Lorenzo laughed, squeezing Briar's ass beneath the covers. "Two wants this early?" He sounded delighted.
Briar sighed into their next kiss - slow and sweet in the morning sunshine, like lovers who knew that they had all the time in the world.
"Do you know what day it is?" Lorenzo asked as he rolled Briar on top of him.
Briar shook his head, purring at the feeling of Lorenzo's fingers trailing up and down his spine.
"It's been thirty-one days since I brought you home."
Briar blinked in surprise. Normally, he would have kept track of something like that, counting down the days until he would be returned to the shelter.
"The probation period is over," Lorenzo smiled, open and adoring. "I guess you'll have to keep me."
"I guess so," Briar whispered, feeling his heart swell in his chest.
Then, straddling Lorenzo's hips, Briar gasped as he sank down onto his master's cock, taking what he wanted.