Kitten

I.

People rushed their way through the street and no one paid any attention to the teenager leaned against the wall, head bowed, eyes closed.

He was obviously waiting for someone and doing so, which had to be inevitable, because everyone in their right mind would hurry inside, into the warm.

It was unusually cold for the late summer and people protected themselves from the frosty wind by jumpers and jackets, but that boy – short, blond and bespectacled – was wearing only a thin t-shirt and jeans and was visibly shivering.

 “Gosh, Quinn, you’ll freeze!” said a male voice not far from him and he looked up to see a black-haired boy, or rather young man – a bit older than him, though not by much. He was already unzipping his own black jumper.

“That’s not necessary,” the blond protested, but the other rolled his eyes.

“Nonsense,” he said, forcing the garment into the boy’s hands. “Just take it!”

Quinn sighed and did as he was told, though muttering: “Now you’ll be cold!”

 Axel Watson, the other boy, was nineteen years old, tall, slim and well-built. Not a bodybuilder, just the right amount of muscle. He had thick black hair and he adjusted his hairstyle with a setting lotion making it stand on his crown. His eyes were a strange yellow-green color and he had three earrings - two in the left and one in the right ear. And a lipring, which he had obtained only recently.

He was handsome, he was often told that, and quite weird, which he could read in people’s expressions.

He was too human to be a lycanthrope, but still too strange for a full-blood human. People often wondered what kind of being he really was, but they never asked and he could not be bothered to explain the rules of inherited elementary magic, which did not require much training, but which comprised such a big part of him that it made him almost a different animal species.

However, he still managed to make quite a few friends, of which Quinn Beau might had not been the best, but Axel took a liking to him. He loved the image Quinn wore – the protect-me look.

Axel got used to being available for him anywhere and anytime. All the other boy needed to do was to call. He knew quite well how rough the things at Quinn’s home could be and he made it clear that the blond was always welcome at his place whenever he needed.

It was always the same – Quinn would call him from the public phone, would ask where he currently was and if he could come. If Axel was still at work, Quinn would get there and wait for him to finish. If he was already on his way home, they would meet somewhere. Axel often toyed with the thought of simply giving him a key to his flat, but he was not quite sure how to bring it up. And, anyway, Quinn had very little privacy and Axel really did not fancy a visit from Mr. Beau, drunk and ready to beat anything moving.

Not that it had not happened before but at least the man could not get in.

When they met, Quinn would give him a small smile, almost unknowingly. For some reason it was worth all the troubles Axel had with him.

That smile moved something deep in the black-haired boy and it made him smile back, rather goofily. He did not know why and it scared him a little, because it was not pure lust and it could not be love. Not love, because Axel never believed in it and if it existed, after all, it would not happen now and not for this plain-looking seventeen-year-old teenager.

To avoid these thoughts he reached out and zipped his own jumper for Quinn, which was rewarded by a nice blush, as cute as it ever could be.

“Now that surely wasn’t necessary,” the blond frowned as they set out walking toward Axel’s flat.

“You are welcome,” Axel grinned and the boy rolled his eyes.

“Sorry. Thank you. But I had a really awful day and you make me feel like a bloody girl.”

“I don’t,” Axel protested, folding his arms on his chest to save a bit of the warmth that was quickly leaving him. “If you were a chick, I’d snog you senseless to warm you up.”

“You wouldn’t, I’d make an ugly girl.”

“Plain, rather. And then you wouldn’t get my jumper anyway,” Axel pointed out and shivered. Hell, it really was bloody cold.

“I told you,” Quinn said. Before he could as much as expect an answer, Axel got a grab of his wrist and dragged him into the nearest abandoned alley he found.

For one crazy moment the black-haired boy considered actually snogging Quinn senseless to warm up himself, but then he simply started to transform.

It was nothing the other boy hadn't seen before and it did not surprise him. It was not as if the cat suddenly stood where the boy was before. It was a complex process, not slow, but not instant either.

In the end Quinn only shook his head and leaned down to take the black, green-eyed creature into the embrace. “You are impossible, you know that?” he asked.

“It’s a solution, isn’t it?” the cat answered in Axel’s voice.

This was nothing new and he was more than comfortable in Quinn’s arms. Usually he felt overexposed in his animal form and did not like people touching him, let alone hold him, but he trusted Quinn. Maybe it was the air of innocence the boy was giving. Somewhere deep down Axel knew that the blond boy was more reserved and reticent than sweet and shy, but the difference was – surprisingly – so small he had almost completely forgotten. Sometimes he wished the boy would forget he was really a human, just for a second, and snuggle him like he did with real strays.

 Instead, Quinn changed the topic as he headed for Axel’s home.

“I met Duncan today… Arthur is still missing…”

II.

Axel changed back to his human form somewhere between the entrance hall and the door of his rented flat. After he let Quinn in, he locked the door behind them and gave the other boy a look of a deep concern.

“Any bruises? Something that needs healing?”

The blond shook his head, already getting out of Axle’s jumper. “I ran away before he could notice me.”

“Great. Beer?”

“Would be nice,” Quinn sighed and sat, or rather sank, to the bed. The whole flat was actually only one room with a little bathroom attached, but it was Axel’s independency and privacy.

Axel nodded and turned to the fridge. He was glad to have Quinn there. The last few weeks had been awful. He had much more work than usual, as if everyone suddenly decided that the bar he served at was the nicest place ever, he'd gotten into a nasty argument with his sister – he had two of them, both younger, one eighteen, the other Quinn’s age – and the brother of one of his friends had disappeared without a trace.

“Kitten?”

That word surprised him. Quinn did not use that nickname often; actually Axel usually heard it from a bloke called Maurice, with whom he had unspoken war for unspoken leadership of unspoken gang. Many things in his life were left unspoken.

However, from Maurice it always sounded like a challenge, while said by Quinn it sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.

“Yeah?”

“Is it true what they say about you?”

“And what would that be?” Axel turned around with two cans in his hands. He threw one of them in Quinn’s direction and watched him catch it, satisfied by the other boy’s reflexes.

The blond held his eyes focused on the tin, not making an eye contact.

“That… that you sleep also with men.”

Axel sighed. He did and he was not ashamed, but he wasn’t quite sure how to react. He knew that sooner or later someone would find out and he would have to talk about it and explain. However, he never had made a plan.

But this was Quinn, and Quinn mattered.

He took a deep breath. “If I do… Would you mind, if I did?”

It was the stupidest thing to ask, because what could he do if Quinn minded?

“So you do, then,” the other boy said and it was not a question.

With another deep breath – I am going to get myself unconscious, if I keep doing this – he said: “I do. And I want to and I don’t get paid for it,” he added, to make it clear, quite sure of what people could say about him. “Does it bother you?”

The blond did not answer and the only movement he was making was turning the can in his fingers. Finally, Axel set his own beer aside and transformed, crawled slowly to the bed, jumped on it and sat down, his tail curled around his legs. “Does it?”

Somehow, not being human always worked.

Quinn looked up and shook his head with a small sign of smile. “Nah, it doesn’t. I’ve needed a time to process it, ´s all. I never actually believed them and I’ve thought I should ask, just to be sure, and you’ve surprised me.”

He reached an hesitant hand and stroked Axel’s back, lightly, in a gesture that should have been reassuring. It comforted Axel and, to his own surprise, made him purr against his own will.

That made Quinn laugh and he took his hand away, letting Axel change back. The black-haired boy knelt on the bed, trying to hide his slight confusion and the fact that it was quite a pleasant experience. Axel waved his hand to the small old television to break the silence that was still a little bit awkward.

“Do you think there’s anything good on?”

“No idea,” Quinn shrugged. “Let’s find out.”

He stood up, turned it on and then headed to Axel’s dresser to fish for a clean older t-shirt. There was no need to ask for permission as it was one of their customs; he always slept in clothes Axel was no longer wearing when he stayed over. They were usually too big for him and made him look far skinnier than he actually was, but Axel found it rather cute.

Though he would not say it aloud.

III.

 They went to sleep quite late, after seeing two movies--[add hyphen]one of which was almost unbearably boring in Axel’s opinion, but the blonde boy seemed to enjoy it. They did not talk much, not as they usually did, and Axel felt strange tension for which he could not find a satisfactory explanation.

The bed was double, but it was not wide enough for two adult-sized people who were not lovers. Both of them would be more comfortable if one took the floor, but they found out a long time ago that they were both too stubborn to let the other “sacrifice.”

That night Axel felt the other boy toss and turn and generally move too much for a longer time than usual. He got kicked by [delete "an"] accident for a few times and it was starting to annoy him.

Finally, he hissed: “If you keep doing that, I’ll have to handcuff you!”

“You could just bloody transform! Then we’d fit perfectly well!”

“Next time you can just stay home, if you are not satisfied.” It sounded angrier than he wanted it to.

“I… sorry,” Quinn hesitated. “I’m an ungrateful prat, I know… I really am sorry.”

Axel sighed. “Yeah, you should be.” In a normal situation he wouldn’t say that, but the whole bloody month had been horrible and he would really love to sleep. Or shag. But as he did not expect the latter to happen any time soon, he would really appreciate if the other boy stopped struggling. And if he stopped being such an idiot. If there really was something that he did not like about Quinn it was the fact that he could be awfully quiet, but when he finally opened his mouth he would let out something horribly stupid. It did not happen that often; however, once in while was bad enough. “You know, I am not even sure why I care if you get beaten or not. You never show any gratefulness, but I still care. I don’t ask you to thank me, you know, just don’t take me for granted, OK?”

“I… I don’t, I know how much you do for me,” Quinn whispered, sounding ashamed, but after a second of silence, he chuckled. “You’ve sounded rather girly…”

Axel realized he might have and snickered as well. “I guess I did… So, you know what? Next time you either bring me flowers or you are staying outside!”

“Has anyone ever actually brought you some?” Quinn asked, laughing quietly.

“Nah… And don’t you try it, or…” the threat was left unfinished, because he was successfully shut up by a hand that suddenly appeared on his hip. It was a light touch, but it left no space for doubts whether it was purposeful.

It took him a few moments to find his speech, during which he tried to decide if the touch was real or not.

“What now, Quinn?” he asked.

“I…” Quinn’s hand moved, he made an attempt to take it away, but Axel caught his wrist and held it in place.

“What now?” he repeated, changing his tone to a gentle whisper.

“I don’t know,” Quinn admitted, but the black-haired boy felt him moving and then the blond’s chest was pressed against his own back and his toes against his ankles. He felt Quinn's breath on his neck and he shivered.

In a normal situation – and nothing seemed normal that day – he would stop to think, he would judge all the reasons and possible consequences. But this was Quinn, it was deep night, he was sleepy and fuck, he felt an arousal building in his shorts.

He interlaced his fingers with Quinn’s, guided his hand under his t-shirt and pressed it against his stomach. He hoped that gesture was clear enough for the other boy to understand.

It made Quinn snuggle even closer and it felt so good… It was right. The best thing in the whole bloody world. And the only thing that matter was to get Quinn even closer, as close as possible…

The rest of the universe vanished. There was no rude boss, no bothersome customers, no crazy relatives, no idiotic drunkard who took a liking to beating his own son, no Arthur Johansson who was probably dead by now…

“What now?” he repeated, turning over to face the other boy. Quinn’s eyes were wide and shiny and his pupils dilated. He had his mouth open slightly and he looked so sweet, so unbelievably hot, that Axel was infinitely grateful he could see well in the darkness, even if without colors. “What now?” he asked, when Quinn finally decided to do something--one of his hands caressed Axel’s back, the other moved to his neck and face. What was there to do? Axel pressed himself to the blond boy as tight as he could manage and connected their mouths in a hot, desperate kiss.

IV.

When Axel woke up in the morning, he refused to open his eyes for a second, not wanting the wonderful memory to break. He knew he was alone and while he was not surprised, it left him feeling empty and cold.

The room was suddenly too big without Quinn there, the light too bright and the shadows in the corners too deep. He missed his touch and breath and soft laugh and the words, which exact meaning he had missed but which had carried the general message of want and need.

He stepped into the shower; let the stream of water flow over his shoulders and back.

He was confused and lost, knowing that he should find Quinn and sort the things out soon. He had no problem with one-night stands; he was rarely bothered by wondering whether the person he had spend the night with would call him again or not. He was all right with the occasional snogging in the corners with no promises attached and no hard feelings.

However, this was Quinn. Quinn, whom he knew from the times of toy cars, the same boy he used to steal neighbor’s apples with. They were friends, he, Quinn, Maurice and Johansson brothers, Duncan and Arthur. The blond had been the youngest of them and while he was certainly braver and smarter than Arti, for example, he was the one Axel felt need to protect.

Quinn, who made him smile and whose sadness made him depressed.

He had shagged Quinn.

He had shagged him and the blond had not stayed.

And he wanted him. Wanted it to mean something, wanted it to be something more than mere night of passion.

If he only knew what it meant for the other boy…. The thought that it could have been [add "only"?] curiosity that led to that tightened his throat and he felt like he could actually break down if it were true.

He was quite sure where he would find Quinn, so he transformed. As a cat he ran the roofs the whole way to the wall that surrounded the old abandoned sawmill. They used to play there since they were young children and it was a place where they felt free and safe. The wall itself was high and broad, built from bricks. It was quite easy to climb up on it and from there you could get anywhere – into the area of the sawmill, which was dangerous and exciting at the same time, as well as the roofs of near buildings.

Just as he predicted, the blond boy was sitting on it, hands and knees lined, head bowed. He did not move when Axel approached him but the slight change in his breathing was an obvious sign he knew about his presence.

“You could have stayed till the morning, at least,” Axel said, surprised at how hurt that sounded.

“I did. It’s almost noon.”

“Deep night”

“Hm.”

This was ridiculous. Ridiculous, because he desperately wanted… needed… to touch the other boy. He wanted to kiss him and… hell, replay the whole event right than and there. But he was not quite sure it would be welcomed. He would like to see the other’s eyes at least and have a nice, civilized conversation. “Quinn, would you look at me, please?”

The other boy turned his head slightly, his face unreadable, troubled. “Would you change? It’s difficult to talk to a cat about… sex,” he finished with a light blush coloring his cheeks.

Axel did as he was told, mirroring the blond’s position. “So I take it you don’t want to forget about it,” he said carefully.

Quinn shook his head no. “You?”

Moving closer, the black-haired boy answered: “No… I… it was fun, wasn’t it?” he realized how stupid it sounded, hated the words as soon as they escaped his mouth. “I’d like to do it again, actually.” Better.

The blonde blushed even more, dropping his eyes – which were unsteady anyway – to the ground. “I…”

Axel sighed. “Quinn, mate, if it did not mean anything… fuck, we could forget about the whole thing if you want to.”

They could and it would be a torture and he knew it. He remembered how frustrating it was to want and not to be wanted. Once he got what he desired it would be unbearable to give it up.

“I said I didn’t.”

“So? Just bloody tell me what it was about!” No, he was not screaming. He would not. His voice was barely louder than usual and he tried to sound as calm as possible. Inside he felt a desire to shake Quinn and just get the answers he desperately wanted… needed.

“Guys like you don’t fuck my kind.”

“I don’t think I get it,” Axel frowned, now more confused than before.

“I am plain, as you yourself said. I am uninteresting and always single. I like you, a lot, but I can’t stand the thought of pity sex, ok?”

Axel opened his mouth than closed it again. He probably made a quite nice performance in the role of a goldfish. “You…” he started, but than he went quiet and just stared at the other boy. After a second of quite awkward silence he decided that actions could probably speak louder than words and pressed a quick hard kiss to the blond’s lips.

“Someone´ll see us!” Quinn hissed, eyes wide with shock.

“So what? We aren’t doing anything wrong… Quinn, I don’t sleep with everyone… People may say what they want, but I’m not a whore.”

The blonde was quiet for a moment, than he grinned. “That means I don’t have to pay you? That’s a relief!”

Axel shook his head. “Damn, Quinn, you are impossible. If I didn’t know you weren’t rude on purpose, I’d really push you down.”

Then he jumped, landing on both his feet with the grace of the cat he partly was and raised his hands to the other boy. “C’mon. We are heading to The Corner. Breakfast included.”

“Lunch.”

“The first meal of the day, anyway.”