For Rabbit Hole Day on Livejournal.
Oh damn, it's Little Man again. Here I was all curled up on Himself's chest, purring away, and now I'm banished to the floor so he can curl up on Himself's chest, and he doesn't even purr.
Himself and I, well, we have a pretty good understanding. I do with him as I please, and he feeds me and pets me and otherwise appreciates me... except when Little Man shows up. Now, I started life in Little Man's house, and it's by accident that I ended up in that picnic basket he brought over here to share with Himself... but that very first time I got face to face with Himself, my yellow eyes to his hazel ones, and he named me Negri, it was pretty clear that Himself and I could have something pretty special together.
Everyone around here seems to think Himself is the center of everything. He spends his hours doing this and that, all those things they want him for, and it's all supposedly very important, and yet he's happiest on those evenings when only Little Man wants him and they are here together. Little Man interferes with Himself and me, yes, but he still brings me bits of vat steak and later, he'll let me squeeze right between them and I'll be warm and relaxed like that until dawn...
Ah, Himself and Little Man are moving towards the bed, again. Well, we know what happens now. I will jump up and fold my paws under myself at the foot of the bed... and watch. And hopefully not get kicked or squashed in the process. At least they have figured out not to toss their clothing on me. Poor fellas don't have nearly enough fur, but once the clothes are in a heap on the floor, they have each other to stay warm and it really looks like they like that better than clothing anyway.
You know, there's something odd about this. This isn't Tom and his Queen; it's Tom and his Tom. It makes no sense to me, but the smells and the sounds tell me they are really enjoying this. Not the way I'd do it, but... well. Himself just grabbed Little Man by the scruff with his teeth, just like I'd do if I was a Tom with his Queen. And Little Man likes that, yes. They're ending up facing each other, which is not what a Tom and his Queen would do. But they are wrapped all up in each other like a couple of wrestling half-grown kittens, side by side, running their hands all over each other and sighing and clearly doing something Right and Good.
Himself's got Little Man on his back now. They do like this... kissing, I think it's called. And they do kiss each other all over. Himself is biting and kissing Little Man, right down Little Man's chest, and Little Man is making happy urgent noises and grabbing Himself by the head, pressing Himself on the scruff until Himself moves further down. And Himself is running his hands up the insides of Little Man's thighs, while he keeps that trail of kisses going... Ah. Himself's mouth's where I think he wants it to be, and where I think Little Man wants it to be, judging by the smells and the noises and the way Little Man is lifting up to Himself...
That noise. Almost the noise a Tom would make, as he would grab his Queen with every muscle. Little Man has his eyes closed and his head thrown back and his back arched. And now he's sinking back into the bed, looking spent and satisfied.
And Himself's moving back up to Little Man's mouth, and they're both breathing hard, and the room smells... nicer, like outside, when a Queen in heat has been by. I only wish they were stopping; sometimes they do, but not tonight. Himself's rolled away and he's looking for something in the nightstand, in the drawer where he keeps things from me, ever since Himself's Armsman found a tube of something or other after I dropped it in the middle of the sitting room floor because my mouth didn't like the slipperiness inside, and Himself turned pink all over and looked like he'd been caught pissing in the corner.
This is more like what I'd do, yes. Himself's got Little Man turned over, more like a Queen would be, and he's bent over Little Man and reaching around to grab Little Man's chest and they are both making noises fit for any Tom. I need only to wait...
And there. Himself's making his own version of that noise, deep and joyful, and he has tears streaming down his face, and Little Man looks pleased, somehow, and he's not ripping himself away to turn about and slap Himself like a Queen would slap her Tom. And now they are collapsing together into a pile, all sleepy, and they'll soon be tangled together with me right there with them... and they'll have their eyes closed and I'll be purring again and it will all be Good.