#kitty!hux

Armitage rolled off of you, eyes narrowed into content little slits. Your eyes closed too, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath and recover. You rolled towards where he was lying and reached for him, only to find him gone. You open your eyes to see the end of an orange tail flick out the door of the bedroom.

Several minutes later, Richard slunk out of the bathroom to find you curled up in just a sheet, wearing nothing else. The sniffles coming from you made his ears lay back in panic.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” he asked, softly sitting down next to you on the bed.

“N-nothing,” you sob. The last thing you wanted was for either of the boys to see you like this.

“Shhhhhh,” he said, brushing your shoulder with the back of his paw-like hand. After a pause, he spoke again. “Is it my brother?”

“H-he’s just so distant,” you exclaim, words beginning to pour out of you. “I want to be close with him, and he just refuses. I…I thought things would change…b-but I guess not…”

Richard’s ears wiggled back and forth, as they did when he was in deep thought. He bent over to give you a kiss, then pulled the blanket of the bed up to cover you.

“I will be right back,” he whispered.

“Armitage! What have you done to her?”

“Nothing I have not done to her before,” Armitage purred, calmly pouring himself a glass of milk. “Nothing she does not enjoy.”

“Why aren’t you in there with her right now?” Richard demanded, the fur on his neck standing up.

“Because I leave that up to you,” Armitage said, sipping his milk. “You seem to enjoy that sort of…thing.”

“She doesn’t want me,” Richard hissed. “She wants you.”

“Nonsense.”

“It’s true!” Richard exclaimed, losing his temper. His claws came out and he started digging them into the underside of the kitchen counter. “What, do you think you can just use her?!”

“Is that not what we have been doing?” Armitage countered, his voice dropping to a low growl. “Using her, for food, shelter, money, frivolous activities.” He hissed at his brother, baring his fangs. “And have you not been using her as a substitute for Mummy, with all of this coddling nonsense?!”

The twins fell completely silent. Richard’s ears relaxed and his tail went limp. He hung his head, completely defeated by his brother’s words. Armitage stood silent as well, knowing he had gone too far. From across the apartment, the brothers could both hear a single little sob escape from you in your sleep. After the sob, you moaned a single word: “Armitage.”

His ginger ears perked up at the name. He took note of how desperate you sounded, how it was almost like you really did need him.

“Help me,” he whispered to Richard.

“Help you with what?” Richard asked, head still hanging.

“Her.”

Richard’s body perked back up.

“Help me with her,” Armitage asked, practically begging. “I…I want to help her.”

Richard nodded once, then led him to the bedroom where you were half-asleep. He bent down and whispered in your ear, told you that Armitage was there, and that he wanted to be with you.

Richard gestured to the bed, and Armitage obediently crawled in beside you. On Richard’s command, he reached over for your shoulder, hand trembling, as though his touch might break you. The soft contact sends a shiver through your body, and you roll towards it, reaching for Armitage’s ears. You pull his head down to yours and give him a soft kiss, stroking behind his ears as you do. Richard tells him that it’s okay to lick and groom, as long as he’s careful. Armitage falls into a happy rhythm, licking your face and your neck, letting you pet him and hold his body close to yours.

Richard coaches him for a good long time, telling him where you like to be petted yourself, your favourite spots, and so on. Eventually, you curl up beside him, snuggled up against him. Armitage takes note of how peaceful you look.

“Look at her, Richard,” he purred. “How can she make herself so vulnerable, all for me?”

“I’m home! Where’s my pretty boy?”

Silence. You wander into the kitchen to put your bags down, scanning every nook and cranny you passed on the way.

“Where’s my handsome kitty hiding?” you said again, still searching for any sign of your beautiful half-man, half-cat companion.

“Hux, really, where are you? I’m getting worried…”

A sharp hiss from the top of the cabinets made you jump. There he sat, perched on top of the cabinets with a mass of shredded fabric between his hands and some threads sticking out of his mouth.

“Did you destroy one of my good shirts?” you inquire, folding your arms and staring up at him. He hissed again, leaping to the ground in one fluid motion. He stood briefly, studying your posture, your face, and your smell. He bared his teeth and hissed one more time before slinking into the bedroom and slamming the door.

“Darling, what’s up?” you ask, standing outside the bedroom door. You knew it wasn’t locked, but you also knew better than to enter after that little outburst. “Can I come in?”

More silence. You took this as an invitation to come in, so you slowly opened the door to find Hux sitting on the bed, staring blankly out the window, and absentmindedly tearing at a pillow with his claws. You made your way over to the bed and sat down, scooting yourself to sit cross-legged in the middle. Hux didn’t acknowledge you at all. His tail lay completely still and his ears were slicked back against his head. The only sound was the ripping of the pillow between his hands.

“Kitty, what’s wrong?” you pleaded again. He could be so stubborn. Several more minutes of silence passed before he decided to break it.

“You were late today,” he stated, his tail flicking to one side.

“Yeah, I had to go to the store,” you said. “I even told you before I left. I asked you if you needed anything, and you asked me to pick up extra milk. Remember?”

“Mmmm. What was it like?” he said, something between a purr and a growl coming from his throat.

“What was what like? What kind of question is that?”

“The store,” he said, ripping harder at the pillow. “Describe it.”

“Describe…the store? Well, it was pretty boring. They had a sale on cucumbers, but I know you hate those….”

“No. Describe,” he snapped, drawing out the last word. “Is that not a word in your vocabulary?”

“Yeah…but…okay, you want me to just…describe the store…”

And that’s what you did. You described the aisles, the food you saw, the colours, the workers, the chill of the dairy section, the smells from the bakery, everything. As you talk, you notice him ripping a little less. His tail flicks lazily as you detail the supermarket to him.

“…and…yeah, that’s about all I can say.” Your story comes to an anticlimactic finish, and silence fills the room again.

“I have never been to the store,” he finally said, his ears pricking up.

“You haven’t?”

“No. And I never will get to go to the store.” He sighed and laid his head on the pillow that he had shredded up.

“You could, ya know,” you say. He lazily rolled over, looking up at you with his magnificent blue eyes. “All you need is a long-sleeved shirt and some pants you can tuck your tail into, plus a hat…”

“No, dear one,” he interrupted. “That is hiding. I do not wish to hide.”

“Well, what do you think you’re doing by staying cooped up in here every day? This is hiding.”

“You cannot understand. I am a freak…an animal. I cannot just go places when I want or do what I want. Even if I do hide my true form, there’s always a danger I will be discovered. I…I would get this tail and these ears chopped off if I could walk into a hospital without being immediately carted off to a lab or a zoo.”

“Kitty, don’t say things like that!” you exclaim. You had no idea he felt this way. You didn’t exactly know how to help either.

You lean over to him, snaking your hand around to the back of his neck to scratch the soft fur that grew there. His eyes narrow, and a purr began to resonate in his chest. You move your hand to scratch behind his ears and his back arched, the purr growing louder in his throat. You bend down to kiss him, still scratching his ears. You felt the vibrations from his purring in your mouth as you deepen the kiss. He can’t help himself, and he started grooming your face, licking and nuzzling at you as you fiddle with the buttons on his shirt. He rolls over onto his tummy, granting you access to the thick stripe of ginger fur that runs all the way down his bare back to his tail. You stroke his fur, praising him the entire time, telling him what a handsome boy he is and how happy he makes you. He’s mewing uncontrollably, his tail swishing around and his whole body wiggling with the sensation of your fingers in his fur.

Eventually, you gather as much of him as you can up into your arms as he nuzzles into your neck, trying to get as close as possible to you.