(no subject)
Kittens! At The Disco :: Director’s Commentary
Ryan Ross / Spencer Smith ( Panic! At The Disco )
R
“You did what?”
“I had to, mom, you don’t understand. They were such jerks! They just walked right on past!”
“Honey, I’m sure that happens sometimes. That doesn’t give you the right to just curse those poor boys. I’ve told you and told you that you can’t just go around cursing people!”
I hear that Panic! At The Disco do this thing where they just walk right on by their fans, or ignore them, and shit like that. I kind of felt like pissing off a fan would be the best way to kick things off. It’s kind of funny, because if you look, "penises are for boys, vaginas are for girls, unless of course, something crazy happens. then anything's game." starts the exact same way. Well, not exact, since that one starts with Ryan pissing off a one-night stand. But you get my point. It’s a good jumping off place.
Interestingly enough, however, this part wasn’t originally at the beginning. The next section was the beginning, and when I finally needed a resolution, this came to be to match up with the ending.
***
Spencer felt like shit.
He hadn’t felt decent in the last… three, four days, and he’d spent as much time as possible avoiding people. Ryan had tried keeping him company, but Ryan was afraid that he’d get sick as well, and after that it was only a matter of time before they were all sick and miserable. But Ryan had stayed with him after the show the night before and helped him make his way out to the bus. They’d both felt guilty for ignoring the fans, but Ryan wasn’t strong enough to pick Spencer up and carry him to the bus if he passed out.
He twisted around and reached out to pull his blanket off his face, but his blanket seemed to have grown, and just one tug didn’t work. Neither did a second. Rolling over and pushing himself up didn’t make the edge of the blanket come into sight either.
It did, however, show him something… interesting. Instead of hands, he had furry white paws. Further inspection revealed to him that he had pretty much a furry everything. In fact, he appeared to be a very small, very fuzzy white kitten.
He struggled out from under the blanket, and his bunk was suddenly massive. This was so fucked up, he thought, stumbling over to the curtain and all but tumbling out. Walking on four feet was fucking hard. But he managed to land on his feet.
Now, the question was, how did he get from the floor into Ryan’s bunk?
The curtain was pulled away from the wall slightly at the foot of the bunk, and Spencer walked down, aimed, and took a running leap. He only sort of made it, half of his body dangling while he tried to claw his way up. At least some part of his brain was able to pick up quickly on how to work his new body. He managed to get into Ryan’s bunk, and…
It was empty.
At least, it seemed to be empty, but as he made his way down the mattress, he discovered there was a very small lump near the pillows that seemed to be, well, breathing. He poked it with a paw, and it made an unhappy noise and shifted over. He poked it again, and this time it didn’t even bother to move.
Ryan Ross doesn’t like to get up before he’s ready. I dare someone to prove me differently.
Spencer jumped on it.
The kitten that Spencer could only assume had once been Ryan Ross struggled out from underneath the blankets, swiping at Spencer with both paws, eyes closed. ( It was actually pretty much the same reaction boy-Spencer would have gotten from boy-Ryan if he’d jumped on him to wake him up. And about as effective. ) Then the other kitten froze, and cracked one eye open, looking at Spencer.
“What the fuck is going on?” Ryan demanded, looking at himself as best he could. Spencer was a sturdy little ball of white fluff, but Ryan was an even smaller ball of grey fuzz. “What the hell did you do?”
“What did I do?” Spencer asked, swiping at Ryan’s head with one of his paws. Ryan ducked and swiped back. “Like I would just decide to make us both cats? That’s like me asking you if you did this!”
“If I’d done this, I’d have made myself a bigger cat,” Ryan noted, twisting around and looking down at his little kitten body.
Tiny boy, tiny kitten.
“Do you… you know that girl last night, who was yelling crazy shit when we walked by?” Spencer asked. “Because we kind of ignored her?”
“Yeah, but you were about to like, fall down, Spence,” Ryan pointed out. “And that would have been embarrassing. Then she would’ve seen what a wimp I am while I was trying to drag you to the bus.”
Except now I know that Ryan is deceptively strong. I saw him push that fat guy in the pool with his little skinny stick arms that look like they’re going to snap.
“I’m sure security would have helped you,” Spencer said dryly. “No, do you think that maybe she did this?”
“Did becoming a kitten make your brain cells disappear?” Ryan asked. “Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life.” He got up and made his way over to the curtain. “Wow, if is a long way down.” A pause. “You think I can jump to Brendon’s bunk from here?”
“If you want to die, maybe,” Spencer said. “The jumping shit is hard. You’ll probably break your neck. It’ll be sad.”
“Well, I wanna see if Brendon’s a cat too,” Ryan explained.
“Go to the floor first and jump from there,” Spencer suggested. “That’s how I got up here.”
“Your bunk isn’t as far to the floor as mine,” Ryan said. “I want to know. He’s probably a kitten too.”
“I bet he isn’t,” Spencer said. “I’m telling you, it was that girl. She did some kind of Voo Doo shit.”
“Spencer, that’s crap, and you know it,” Ryan said. He backed up and took a running leap, trying to jump across the aisle to Brendon’s bunk.
Naturally, he didn’t make it, and let out a shriek as he crashed into the divider between Brendon’s bunk and Spencer’s and tumbled down to the floor. Brendon’s bunk curtain flew open and he stuck his head out, taking in the sight of the kitten standing at the edge of Ryan’s bunk and the kitten sprawled on the floor, stunned.
“Um. Guys?” Brendon asked. “When did we get kittens?”
***
“So do you think they’re really Ryan and Spencer?” Jon was asking. “Or are they playing some kind of sick joke?”
“I think… I don’t know,” Brendon said.
They were sitting on the floor with their backs against Jon’s bunk, looking at the two kittens, which they’d placed on Spencer’s bunk. The white one was sitting calmly, watching them, his tail swishing back and forth. The grey one, the one who had crashed into the divider, then the floor, was sprawled pathetically on the blanket.
Pathetic sprawling is really more of a Brendon Urie thing, but I suppose if you’d just crashed into a wall and weight like, half an ounce, you might sprawl pathetically, too. But you can bet your ass that if Brendon Urie was a kitten, he’d sprawl pathetically for five minutes and then he’d be up in your face, pawing at your chest and meowing at top volume.
“If they’re them, then they’d be able to understand us, right?” Jon said. “Maybe they can’t talk back, because, you know, different vocal cords, but they might be able to understand us.”
Brendon leaned forward and looked at the white kitten. “If you’re Spencer, then um…” Brendon said. What could he really ask the cat to do?
“How do you know that one’s Spencer?” Jon asked.
“Come on, one’s sitting there watching us and taking it all in, and the other one’s like, sulking,” Brendon said. The grey kitten lifted its head and looked at Brendon, twisting around and getting up, walking toward where the white one was sitting. “See, the grey one’s probably trying to figure out how to work his paws to flip me off right now.”
The grey kitten froze.
Busteddddd.
“See? They are Spencer and Ryan, and they can understand us,” Brendon said. The grey one continued over and took a swipe at Brendon’s nose, but his claws weren’t at the ready. “And that one’s Ryan.”
“Okay, fine, but … they’re cats, B. People just don’t spontaneously turn into cats,” Jon said, shaking his head. “And how the hell are we going to change them back? We have a show tomorrow.”
“I don’t know,” Brendon said. “Hopefully um. They’ll do it on their own?”
The kitten who had once been Spencer sighed and flopped down on the bed, swishing his tail at them.
***
Fortunately, they did change back to boys, once the sun went down. One moment, they were sprawled on Spencer’s bunk, and suddenly they were full sized boys again, and Ryan had fallen out on the floor with a surprised yelp.
***
“That was fucking bizarre,” Ryan said, plopping down on the couch and opening up a box of cereal. He was starving. Being a cat all day had sucked. Spencer sat down beside him, cracking open a can of soda and grabbing a hand full of dry cereal. “Let us never speak of it again.”
“Oh, come on,” Spencer said. “You were a cat for like, twelve hours, Ryan. Now you’re human again, and you can’t say that you didn’t have a little bit of fun?”
“I slammed into a wall,” Ryan said. “And Jon kind of touched me in inappropriate places.”
“They weren’t inappropriate places for a cat, I don’t think,” Spencer said, arching an eyebrow at Ryan. “Plus, if he did, it was probably accidental. Now, if it was Brendon, it would have been on purpose.”
During the writing of this scene, I was told that I couldn’t make Brendon a cat molester. And I was like, this is for comedic value. In the end, because I pretty much write what I want. I don’t actually think Brendon would molest cats.
They both laughed, and Ryan sighed. “Seriously, Ryan. You didn’t have any fun? At all? Flying through the air with the greatest of ease, at least until you smacked into the bunk?”
“Fuck off,” Ryan said. “And I’m telling Brendon you implied he was a cat molester.”
“Because you’re still, mentally, eight years old, Ryan, seriously,” Spencer said, reaching for more cereal. “You were always a tattler.”
Now that I think about it, I really doubt Ryan did a lot of tattling as a child. I mean, who is Ryan really going to tattle to? Teachers kind of frown on it when kids are tattletales. And since Spencer said it, what are the odds that Spencer’s mom would really believe Ryan over her own baby? Plus, Spencer was WAY MORE ADORABLE than Ryan as a kid. Ryan kind of looked ornery.
“Fuck you,” Ryan said sweetly, holding the cereal away so that Spencer couldn’t reach it. He hadn’t bothered to take into account that Spencer would just climb over him to get to the box. Spencer grabbed the edge of the box and Ryan tried to pull it away, but his fingers slipped, and suddenly they were caught in a rainstorm comprised of Cocoa Krispies.
Brendon walked into the lounge. He stopped, taking in the sight of Spencer sprawled across Ryan’s lap and Ryan with pieces of cereal in his hair.
“I don’t even want to know,” Brendon said, before turning around and walking out.
“Spencer says you’re a cat molester!” Ryan called after him, and then yelped when Spencer pinched him hard in the ribs.
But maybe Ryan grew up to be a tattler. He probably blackmails people. People like Pete Wentz.
***
Being boys didn’t last too long, because as soon as the sun started peeking through the thin curtains of the hotel room. Spencer woke up underneath the blankets again, and he knew instantly that he was a kitten again. Fuck.
He struggled out from underneath the blanket and made his way across the table separating the beds to the bed where Jon was still sleeping. He walked up to the other boy’s face and swatted at his nose, hoping that he’d wake up. Jon shook his head, then cracked one eye open.
He summed the situation up nicely with one word.
“Shit.”
***
“So what do we do?” Brendon asked. He was sitting on the bed with Spencer in his lap, petting the kitten’s fur. Spencer had tried not to enjoy it, but Brendon was petting him, and he was a cat. He liked it too much to keep trying not to enjoy it. Ryan was giving him what amounted to a dirty look. Spencer figured that it was because he was purring.
I debated about whether or not either of them would actually enjoy being a cat, and when it comes down to it, neither one of them would really like it. But I also think that Spencer, being the more practical of the two, would just say, ‘may as well make the most of it’ and let Brendon give him a good rub-down.
“I guess… I don’t know. Do you think they’ll turn back when the sun goes down again?” Jon asked. “Or should we cancel the show?”
“I’d rather not cancel the show unless we absolutely have to,” Brendon said. “I think they’ll turn back. Like, they’re just going to be cats for the day, and then… human again at night.”
“We are suddenly living in a really fucked up version of Shrek,” Jon said. Brendon laughed.
This was my BRILLIANT thing that I came up with while I was talking about this idea. I was like, well shit, I’m setting it during the summer tour, right? I don’t want to say they had to cancel shows, what do I do? In the end, they got Fiona-syndrome. Cat by day! Boy by night! Except for the part where Fiona was princess by day and ogre by night, but you understand what I’m getting at here.
***
Spencer had embraced spending the daylight hours as a kitten with an enthusiasm that, frankly, made Ryan a little ill. It had taken three days before Ryan had finally cracked and demanded to know how Spencer could possibly enjoy what was happening to them and not be completely freaking out, and could he please pass the ketchup.
“Well,” Spencer said, between bites of his burger. He was starving. They were going to have to look into getting food that was actually okay for kittens to eat, even if the idea of eating cat food made him queasy. “I just figure, it’s happening, so why not go with it. Enjoy it instead of being miserable and trying to scratch Brendon’s fingers off. He needs those, you know.”
“Well then he should stop trying to touch me so damn much,” Ryan said sulkily, slathering his fries in ketchup.
Every single time my roommate has fries, she eats more ketchup than fries. I do not know why I decided to give Ryan this attribute, but there you go. I like to include little things from real life that make me smile.
“You’re an adorable fuzzy kitten,” Spencer said, looking around and making sure that no one could hear them. They were sitting in a booth in the back of an International House of Pancakes at half-past three in the morning, stuffing their faces for the second time that night. “Of course he wants to pet you.”
“Then he’s going to deal with me trying to bite his fingers off,” Ryan said, picking up his veggie burger and taking a bite.
I was misleadingly informed that Ryan was a vegetarian. Now I know he’s not. My bad.
“Hey, you know what?” Spencer asked so suddenly and loud enough that Ryan choked on his burger and grabbed for his glass of Pepsi as he coughed. Spencer waited until Ryan looked up at him, sniffling, with his eyes watering.
“What?” he croaked.
“We’re like. Going to have to eat cat food.”
YUM YUM.
***
“I am not eating cat food,” Ryan hissed at Spencer. He was sulking inside Brendon’s hoodie pocket, the very tip of his nose sticking out.
If I had a kitten, I would want to carry it around in my hoodie pocket. I think I could also do this with the very tiny dog that I one day hope to have. Or not. I don’t know.
“You don’t have a choice,” Spencer told him. He was sitting on Brendon’s thigh, licking his paw. Jon looked over at the two kittens, hissing at each other, and then at Brendon, who was watching them, ready to push them off of him if they actually got into a cat-fight right there in his lap.
“I hate you a lot right now,” Ryan said, retreating into the pocket, so that he was just a tiny bulge in the fabric. He was quiet for a minute. “Do they make vegetarian cat-food?”
Once again, I got this wrong. I don’t know where I read that - maybe Ryan was at the time and that’s where this came from. Someone enlighten me?
“Probably not,” Spencer said, switching paws. Jon turned the rental car into the PetSmart parking lot and parked, turning off the vehicle and picking Spencer up as he got out. Brendon started trying to get Ryan out of his pocket as they walked into the building. Ryan stuck his claws in the fabric and wouldn’t let Brendon pull him out.
“Ryan,” Spencer said. “Just go with this, man. You’ll be a lot happier. Especially if you let people pet you.”
“Fuck you,” Ryan all but snarled, trying to curl farther into the pocket, but there was nowhere else for him to go. Spencer sighed. Why did Ryan have to be so damn stubborn all the time?
***
It turned out, that some of the Very Helpful Employees in the store were Very Cute Girls who had weaknesses for Cute Boys With Kittens. Including one very perky blonde who squeaked and hurried toward them when Jon came around an aisle carrying Spencer.
If a boy as adorable as Jon Walker walked up to you with a kitten as adorable and fuzzy as Spencer in this fic, you’d fall all over yourself to help him out, too.
“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked. And then, “that is the cutest kitten ever.” Spencer’s ears perked up at that. Why, of course he was. “Would you mind if I held him?”
Jon shrugged. He’d leave that up to Spencer. And Spencer? Was totally cool with that. If a cute girl wanted to pick him up and snuggle him. Especially since the girl’s idea of “holding” him seemed to be pressing him against her breasts and scratching his head vigorously. The kitten part of him was pleased with the skritches, the boy part of him sort of went, hey, breasts. He was sure this was exploiting women in some vague way, but hey, she was the one squishing him against her boobs. He didn’t ask for her to do it.
He purred. Jon laughed.
Spencer is down for girls squishing him to his boobs. Which is sort of weird, since this is slash, but whatever. Jon Walker knows what this purring thing is all about.
“Jon?”
Jon turned as Brendon came around the corner, trying to pry his kitten-charge out of his pocket. Ryan had stuck his claws into the cloth and wasn’t coming loose, and Brendon didn’t want to tear up his hoodie. “Help,” Brendon said, frowning and tugging at the tiny kitten body in his pocket.
“You shouldn’t have let him get in there,” Jon said. “Especially since you knew that he wouldn’t come out.”
“I feel sorry for him,” Brendon said. Ryan very, very carefully stuck his claw into Brendon’s stomach at that. “Ow, little jerk.” He pulled the hoodie away from his body so that Ryan couldn’t get him again.
I sort of get the impression that if there was much more clawing, Brendon would have choked little tiny kitten Ryan out.
“Is that another kitten?” the blonde asked, tipping her head and looking at Jon reaching into Brendon’s hoodie pocket to try and pry Ryan free. She stopped petting Spencer as she watched them. Spencer meowed for her attention, and she went back to petting him as Jon finally picked Ryan free of Brendon’s pocket.
“Aww,” the girl said, “he’s so cute!”
Dammit, Spencer thought. He was going to kick Ryan’s ass later if the girl stopped petting him in favor of Ryan.
“Yeah, on the outside,” Brendon said, taking Ryan back from Jon and holding onto him, making sure that he could neither scratch nor bite nor climb back into Brendon’s clothes. He did, however squirm. A lot. “Don’t try to pet him, cuz he might bite your hand off.”
“Aww,” the girl said, and this time it was sad. Spencer made a face at Ryan. Ryan poked his tongue out at Spencer, and Spencer laughed. A brunette employee came around the corner.
“Do you guys need some help?” she asked, looking at her coworker like she wasn’t doing her job.
The blonde totally always did way more flirting with customers than she did helping. The brunette wasn’t above flirting with Cute Boys With Kittens, but honestly, here.
“They’re letting me pet their kitten,” the blonde said with a wide smile.
“We’re actually looking for kitten-food,” Jon said, watching as Ryan tried to squirm out of Brendon’s hand, and succeeded, ducking down into Brendon’s hoodie. Brendon squirmed, because not only was Ryan occasionally accidentally poking him with his sharp kitten-claws, but it fucking tickled.
“Trade me kittens,” Brendon said dramatically. The brunette laughed.
“Uh,” Jon said, pretending to think about it. “No.” He smiled at Brendon.
“That’s cold, man,” Brendon said, unzipping his hoodie and fishing Ryan out. “But yeah, kitten food.” He wrapped his hand around Ryan and held onto him as tight as he dared. He didn’t want to hurt Ryan, not really.
“Follow me,” The brunette said, and she started off down the aisle. They all followed her, with the blonde still carrying Spencer.
“Oh,” Brendon said after a moment. “Vegetarian kitten food? Do you guys have that?”
“Sure,” said the blonde. “But it’s really healthier for kittens to eat the regular kind.”
“This one won’t eat anything else,” Brendon said, waving Ryan around in a way that made the kitten meow. Brendon figured the meow could have meant anything from “you’re damn right I’m only going to eat vegetarian” to “stop waving me around, motherfucker”. Brendon figured it was probably the latter since Ryan proceeded to try to bite him.
“Ohh, cranky and finicky?” the brunette said, looking at Ryan.
“Always,” Jon said, because that was actually a pretty fair description.
“But we love him anyway,” Brendon said.
***
One day, Ryan and Spencer were going to figure out how to turn back into boys without falling off of things. That particular night, Spencer had fallen off the couch with a yelp that echoed the one Brendon let out when he suddenly had a lap full of Ryan Ross.
Ryan blinked at him. “Hi,” Ryan said.
Brendon looked at him. “Are you going to get out of my lap?”
… you know, for all they’re my OTP, I really don’t write that much fic about them. This could have gone so much farther than it actually did.
“No, I think I’ll stay right here,” Ryan said, smiling.
“Oooookay,” Brendon said. “But I just want you to know that you’re severely impeding the progress of my texting now.”
“Cat food is disgusting, Brendon,” Ryan informed him. “Humor me, all right?” Ryan slid off of Brendon’s lap and onto the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “And I am not eating any more of it.”
“You’re going to get awfully hungry,” Spencer said from his place lying on the floor. Ryan poked him in the ribs with the toe of his shoe.
***
True to his word, Ryan did not eat any more cat food after that. The downside of this was that he was completely starving by the time he did turn back into a boy. But it was okay for the first couple of days. After that, however, he started getting listless, curling up in his bunk and not moving.
After a few days, it actually started to scare Spencer.
“Ryan,” Spencer said, head-butting Ryan gently in the side and waking him up. Ryan cracked one eye open and looked at Spencer.
“What?” he asked, sounding tired. Spencer flopped down beside him.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, looking at Ryan laying there. Ryan let his eyes drift shut again.
“I’m fine,” Ryan said. “I’m just tired.”
“Because you’re killing yourself,” Spencer whispered. Ryan lifted his head up to look at Spencer.
“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked.
“Kittens eat like, forty three times a day or something, Ry,” Spencer said, looking at him intently. “Because they’re tiny and use up what they eat really quickly. So you’re pretty much starving yourself to death. That’s why you don’t have any energy.”
“I’m fine, Spencer,” Ryan said, curling up smaller and going back to sleep. Spencer sighed and curled up against him.
Spencer had never really been much of a worrier. That was Ryan’s thing. Right then, he was so worried that he was almost sick.
***
Ryan stumbled and fell against the wall when he turned back into a boy, a few days after Spencer had curled up against him. He was dizzy, and he was fucking starving. He pushed himself back into an upright position and made his way down the hall to where someone had ever-so-kindly brought them dinner. He just hoped no one had noticed.
Jon grabbed his arm before he could go into the room.
“Can this wait until after I eat?” Ryan asked petulantly, reaching up and running shaking fingers through his hair. He felt fucking weak.
“It could, but I need to talk to you away from everyone else, right now, and I won’t have a chance later,” Jon said.
“Hurry up, then,” Ryan said.
“Look,” Jon said. “I know you hate this kitten thing. I know you don’t like it and I know that you hate the cat food, but Ryan, I saw you almost fall down back there. You’re killing yourself as a kitten, and that’s hurting you as a human. You have got to start eating, okay?”
“I’m fine, Jon,” Ryan said.
“You’re shaking, Ryan, and you’re swaying on your fucking feet. Spencer was fucking crying last night, he’s so upset, so scared for you,” Jon said.
“O-oh,” Ryan said, suddenly feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”
“Now you do,” Jon said. “And I know you probably don’t want to eat the cat-food still, because I’ve smelled it, Ry, I’m sure it’s disgusting. But you’re scaring Spencer to death, and I’m not going to say that I’m not worried, and that Brendon’s not either. Just don’t make yourself sick anymore.”
“Okay,” Ryan said, defeated. He hadn’t meant to scare anyone, and he hadn’t meant to make himself sick.
He just hadn’t wanted to eat the cat food.
I had serious doubts about including these last two passages, because I wasn’t sure that it wasn’t too melodramatic for the overall… whatever. I worry about that every time I reread this. And then I think, you know what? It serves a purpose in that Jon telling him how upset Spencer is over this causes Ryan to embrace his cat-ness a little bit. And that makes everything completely lovely.
***
Ryan was holding his breath. He was pretty sure that he must have fallen asleep and was having some kind of bizarre dream brought on by eating the cat food. Because he was almost positive that Spencer would not be fucking licking him if he wasn’t dreaming.
“Spencer,” Ryan said, not opening his eyes. He was totally dreaming. In conclusion: dreaming. “Are you licking me?”
The licking stopped. “Grooming you,” Spencer said, and then went on about his business. Okay, Ryan thought. This being a cat garbage was getting really fucked up.
“Why?” Ryan asked.
“Because you don’t do it. And you look gross,” Spencer said.
“Oh, thanks,” Ryan said.
Ryan Ross would not allow himself to look gross, now would he? (Don’t answer that, for the love of God.)
“It’s true,” Spencer said, and resumed licking with a certain amount of glee. Ryan fought his way free of Spencer and bounced off of his bunk, sprinting down the hallway and jumping up onto the couch, burrowing into Brendon’s hoodie while the other boy tried to keep playing Halo.
I don’t know why I picked Halo, of all games. I’m sure they have an X-Box, but the only game I know for sure that is played on the Panic! bus is Final Fantasy. Of course, I didn’t know this at the time, because Jon hadn’t made that lovely little post where he linked up the cover of FFXII. (Which sucks, btw, don’t even get me started on that fucking battle system. I’m a purist.) I guess I decided that Halo was the most masculine thing ever. (As a sidenote: I tried to play Halo once. I’m not coordinated enough.)
“What the fuck?” Brendon asked, even though he knew that neither Ryan nor Spencer, who had just landed in his lap and was going into his hoodie after Ryan, could answer him. They were fucking fighting. Inside his hoodie.
He unzipped his sweatshirt and dumped them both out onto the floor. Spencer pounced on Ryan and held him down. Spencer was a bigger kitten than Ryan, and Ryan finally gave up struggling and sulked, squished onto the floor underneath most of Spencer’s body.
“What. The hell.” Brendon said. He got no answer other than Spencer starting to groom Ryan again. Brendon just laughed helplessly as his character on the screen got demolished.
***
“Why can’t you just go along with this kitten thing?” Spencer asked. He and Ryan were sitting in the middle of Spencer’s hotel bed with trays that room service had brought up. It was nearly four in the morning.
Ryan stuffed a nacho into his mouth and chewed vigorously, swallowing before he answered. “Because I don’t like being a cat,” Ryan said, like this was the most obvious thing in the entire world.
“I don’t either,” Spencer said, dipping a French fry into the ocean he’d made on his plate out of about thirty packets of ketchup. “But I mean, I’m making the most of it.”
KETCHUP AGAIN. I don’t know why I keep putting that in there. But I do know that now I want some nachos. Mmmm, nachos.
“I am not you,” Ryan said, sticking another nacho in his mouth and hunting around for his napkin to wipe his fingers off.
“Trust me, I definitely noticed that,” Spencer said.
“Fuck you,” Ryan sing-songed around a mouthful of food. Spencer laughed at him.
“Seriously, though, Ryan,” Spencer said, swirling another fry through the ketchup. “Just try and enjoy it, okay? You’re going to be miserable if we’re stuck like this forever.”
“Ew, don’t even say that,” Ryan said, making a face as he picked up another nacho, using his other hand to pile stuff back onto it. “I don’t want to keep turning into a kitten every day forever.”
“Well, we probably won’t, but we don’t know how long it’s going to be, Ryan,” Spencer said, reaching for his soda. “So just… try and go with it for a while, okay?”
Ryan shrugged. “I don’t want to,” he said.
“Maybe you should,” Spencer said. “Be less of a bitch as a cat and be less of a bitch as a person.” Ryan looked up sharply.
“I am not a bitch,” Ryan said. He paused. “Any more than normal.”
At least you recognize that you’re a bitch, RyRo.
“You are way… you’re a lot nastier than normal now, Ryan,” Spencer said. Ryan may not have even noticed that he was being that way, but he was. He hardly ever smiled at all anymore.
Ryan was quiet for a minute, piling his nachos back up. “Am I really?” Ryan asked quietly, looking back up at Spencer.
“Yeah,” Spencer said. “You just need to chill out, though. That’s all it is.” Then he smirked. “Brendon says you just need to get laid.”
“Uh huh,” Ryan said. “By who, exactly? And when?”
I cannot tell you how many conversations about catsex this conversation spawned. Let’s not talk about catsex. I mean, unless you want to talk about how it happened the other night outside my apartment, for like, an hour, and the girl that lives downstairs finally yelled “SHUT THE FUCK UP I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU.” We were all thinking it. She was just saying it.
Spencer waited for Ryan to look up at him before leaning across the trays spread out on the bed and pressing his lips to Ryan’s. It wasn’t the first time and Spencer knew he shouldn’t be doing it. The thought was only compounded by the fact that Ryan didn’t kiss him back, and was looking at him, confused, when he pulled back with his lips burning slightly from the jalapenos Ryan had been eating on his nachos.
“Why’d you do that?” Ryan asked quietly, still looking confused. It hurt Spencer’s feelings, because no one wanted to have someone they just kissed look at them like that.
“Because you needed it,” Spencer said. Ryan’s eyes widened a little, and then he frowned.
“Spencer, we weren’t going to do this anymore,” Ryan said, his voice sounding a little funny, even to himself. “We were…”
“These are special circumstances, Ry,” Spencer said. Ryan nodded his head. “Can you hand me my soda, please?” Spencer added, not quite meeting Ryan’s eyes. “My lips are kind of burning.”
I like the idea that Spencer’s mouth is burning from being up against Ryan’s when Ryan’s had the nachos. I think this scene was actually spawned by a roleplay scene I was doing, wherein my character had nachos and was told to brush his teeth before administering a blowjob. Also, Spencer’s kind of a wuss here. Spencer Smith is so very much not a wuss.
Ryan smiled slightly as he turned and picked up one of the open cans of soda from the nightstand, handing it to Spencer. Spencer took a drink, pressing his lips together. Ryan watched him, then took the can back to put it back on the nightstand. He picked at his nachos thoughtfully for a little while.
“I don’t see how you can eat those things,” Spencer said, dragging another French fry through the ketchup on his plate. “I didn’t even eat them and my mouth is burning.”
That’s three mentions of ketchup for those who are keeping track. Also, Spencer. Still a wuss. How is he more of a wuss than Ryan Ross? I have no idea.
“That’s what you get for stealing kisses,” Ryan said, smiling slightly. Spencer’s heart jumped, because he hadn’t seen that kind of smile on Ryan’s face in a long, long time. Since long before they’d been turning into kittens for the daytime.
They finished eating in silence and Ryan got up to move the trays to the table as Spencer moved back over to pick up his soda. He finished it and tossed the can in the general direction of the trashcan, surprised to see it actually go in ( if it hadn’t, Ryan would have picked it up, because that was the way things went ). He raised both arms into the air.
It’s the little things, I guess. Maybe I gave him good aim because I was making him such a pussy about the jalapenos.
“I’m awesome,” Spencer informed Ryan. Ryan laughed, and climbed onto the bed beside Spencer. Then he leaned in and kissed Spencer.
This time it was Spencer’s turn to be startled. The way Ryan had acted when Spencer had kissed him, this was the last thing Spencer would ever have expected. But it wasn’t unpleasant, except that Ryan’s lips still burned Spencer’s, but it wasn’t in an unpleasant way. Then Ryan pulled away, licking his lips.
“So why’d you do that?” Spencer asked. “If you didn’t want to do this anymore. If we’re through with this whole… me and you trying things out… thing.”
“Maybe I just needed something familiar, Spence,” Ryan whispered. “Or maybe… maybe it’s just you. You make it sound like everything’s going to be okay, even if I’m turning into a kitten every fucking day.”
“It is going to be okay, Ryan,” Spencer said, and suddenly he felt like he was about fifteen again, hugging Ryan and telling him that things would be okay, and if worse came to worse, Ryan could always come and live with Spencer, his parents wouldn’t mind.
“Promise?” Ryan whispered, his lips almost pressed against Spencer’s as he spoke.
“Promise,” Spencer said, and closed the space between their mouths.
Fade to black, which is my favourite way to get out of having to write sex. I hate writing sex, dudes. Also, during the writing of this thing, I sort of had fooled around with the idea of it being Brendon/Ryan (I wonder why?) and Ryan having experimented with Spencer at some point. And then what this whole scene came back to was being the best friend-ness, but also being two boys that were maybe kind of a little gay and thought the best way to figure themselves out would be to experiment on each other. Of course, they could never, ever talk about it afterward. And then they started turning into kittens and all bets were off.
***
Ryan gave up and embraced being a kitten in the worst way possible. This meant that he became a total attention whore, constantly curling up in Jon or Brendon’s lap and yowling at them until they gave him what he wanted, whether it was skritches or anything else.
So basically, what I’m saying is that Ryan turned into what Brendon would’ve been from the start. Oops.
Ryan was curled up in Brendon’s lap and both of them were asleep the afternoon that Spencer fell in the toilet.
At least they were in the hotel room, and at least whoever had used it last had flushed, but it didn’t change the fact that Spencer was suddenly very wet. And not pleased about it. He clawed his way out and made his way into the bedroom, jumping up onto the bed, dripping water. He meowed loudly, head butting Ryan hard to wake him up.
Initially I wanted to have him fall into the toilet on the bus, because that’s infinitely more disgusting than anywhere else you could fall into a toilet, except maybe a gas station. Then I realized that pretty much, a bus moves, and if you’ve ever been in any kind of RV, you know that the toilet lid has to stay down, otherwise there are some very startling noises later on. So Spencer, bouncy little kitty that he is, went in the hotel toilet. They’re boys. Odds are they didn’t even flush.
“What the fuck,” Ryan asked. Then he looked at Spencer. “Why are you wet? Why do you smell like toilet?”
Realization struck.
“You fell in the toilet!” Ryan yelled, and the actual meow came out loud enough to wake Brendon up. Brendon looked down at Ryan rolling around laughing on his lap, and dripping wet Spencer.
This makes Ryan’s day and is possibly the funniest thing that’s happened all year.
“Jon,” Brendon said, and picked Ryan up off his lap, putting him down on the bed, reaching over the side and picking up someone’s flip flop. He threw it at Jon, who grunted when it glanced off the top of his head. “Jonathon.”
“What?” Jon asked, still half asleep.
“Where in this room is there enough water for a cat to be soaking wet?” Brendon asked, watching as Spencer all but attacked Ryan.
“I don’t know,” Jon said, punching at his pillow. “The toilet?”
Brendon let out a snort of laughter as Ryan climbed up his t-shirt in a desperate bid to get away from Spencer. “Your cat fell in the toilet, then,” Brendon said. Jon lifted his head.
“My cat? In the toilet?” Jon asked. Brendon picked Spencer up and carried him over to the other bed, Ryan riding on his shoulder, holding on with his claws and trying not to dig into Brendon’s skin.
“See?” Brendon said, dropping Spencer on the bed in front of Jon’s face. Jon’s nose wrinkled up.
“He’s not my cat,” Jon said. “He’s not anyone’s cat.”
Remember how Brendon wanted to trade Jon kittens earlier when Ryan was being a bitch? He’s changed his mind. He doesn’t want Spencer the Toilet Cat.
“He officially became your responsibility when he fell in the toilet, because you were the last one in there,” Brendon informed him, and then went to wash his hands.
***
Spencer was officially a ball of fluff.
And Ryan was laughing at him again.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, when Jon had taken him into the bathroom and washed him off ( because a bath in toilet-water was so not good ), then dried him. He was still mostly wet, and he’d meowed at Jon, because being wet felt weird and uncomfortable. Jon looked at the hairdryer, then back at Spencer.
“Do you think it would work?” Jon asked, and he supposed if a kitten could shrug, that would be what Spencer did. “Do you want to try it.”
You’re talking to the cat, Jon Walker. Are you crazy?
That was definitely a nod.
Of course, the cat is talking back. Betcha Dylan doesn’t do that.
Twenty minutes later, after a few minutes of very careful drying with the dryer on the lowest setting and with multiple breaks so that he didn’t overheat the kitten.
The result was a total ball of fluff that he carried back into the other room and dumped on the bed with Ryan, who was curled up asleep. Brendon was on the other bed, stretched out on his stomach, asleep. Spencer meowed for Ryan’s attention.
Somewhere there is a drawing of Spencer post-blowdryer. I hope that I threw it away, though.
Ryan opened his eyes and looked at Spencer. He stared for a moment. And then he started laughing.
“Stop fucking laughing at me,” Spencer hissed at him. Ryan continued laughing, his tail flicking through the air. Brendon woke up and looked over at them, squinting before fumbling for his glasses.
“… what did you do to Spencer?” Brendon asked. Jon shrugged.
“Blow-dried him,” Jon said. Brendon’s eyebrows shot up somewhere near his hairline.
“And you thought that was a good idea… why?” Brendon asked.
“Hey, Spencer thought it was a good idea too,” Jon said defensively. “Besides, you have to admit, it’s really cute.”
Spencer smacked Ryan on the head with his paw and a short wrestling match filled with hissing and meowing ensued, ending with Ryan half on top of Spencer, grooming him and trying to get the fur to lay down. Spencer sighed dramatically, and Brendon laughed, taking his glasses back off and stretching back out to go to sleep.
Ryan! Embracing his kitten-ness! Grooming Spencer!
***
The letter arrived almost two months after they started turning into kittens. None of them really knew how it had arrived, but it had shown up in the middle of the kitchen table on the bus one night as they traveled from one venue to the next. Brendon swore that he’d heard a bird fluttering, but Brendon was a little tipsy, too, so none of them really gave it much credit.
There was no return address. There was no address, just two names written carefully in script on the front of the envelope.
Spencer Smith
Ryan Ross
“You’ve got like, a fucking Hogwarts letter,” Jon said, then started laughing as Spencer reached out and snapped the envelope up off the table.
“That would be awesome,” Ryan informed him. “However, you are, unfortunately, completely delusional.” He pushed his hair out of his face, still sweaty from being onstage and pulling on it pretty much made it stick straight up in the air.
Panic! At The Disco like Harry Potter. This is canonical, I believe. I plan to, in the future, write a fic where they are all wizards and the reason they kicked Brent out of the band was because he was a squib. They go to school in Canada. Ryan is whiny. Nothing abnormal there.
Spencer opened up the envelope and Ryan hung over his shoulder to read it.
Spencer and Ryan,
I would like to extend my apologies for the last two months of your lives. I realize that they may have been quite difficult for you, and under any circumstances, my forthcoming explanation would be so unbelievable that you would simply throw this letter into the garbage and probably forget that you ever received it.
However, since you have spent the last two months turning into kittens during the daytime, I think that you’ll find my explanation somewhat less farfetched.
I am very, very sorry for the curse that my daughter placed on the two of you. She was upset that you bypassed her after a show, and in her anger, cast the spell without thinking. She has been fully reprimanded and the spell should wear off within the next week or so, I assure you.
She is a very young witch and sometimes does things out of anger without thinking, and I am very sorry that she did this to you.
Though perhaps this will make you think twice before you bypass your fans.
Sincerely,
Zelda Spellman
So technically this is a Sabrina the Teenage Witch crossover. Yeah, I don’t know either, you guys.
“I was sick!” Spencer yelled. “I felt like ass and no one would have wanted me around!” He flailed his hands around, waving the letter. “Ryan was carrying me back to the bus! I mean, well, not carrying me, but… I was sick!”
“Apparently this lady thinks that you should share your germs with everyone,” Jon pointed out. Beside him, Brendon laughed. But then again, Brendon thought that everything was funnier after he’d had a little bit to drink. Jon rolled his eyes.
“And my vomit when I puked all over the place,” Spencer said. “No one was going to appreciate that.”
“I wouldn’t have appreciated that,” Ryan added. “Especially since then I would have thrown up.”
“Yeah, but that’s because you’re a wimp,” Spencer said. “This is unbelievable. We got cursed by a witch. Seriously.”
Which was what Spencer said to start with and no one believed him.
“Do you think that it’s really going to wear off within the next week?” Ryan asked. That was what he was the most interested in.
“She says it will,” Spencer said.
“I hope it does,” Ryan said, and he was all but dancing when he ducked into his bunk for the night.
***
They turned into kittens again as soon as the sun rose, and Ryan wanted to cry. Sure, she’d said within the next week, but Ryan had still been hoping that he wouldn’t wake up the next morning a kitten. When he did, his heart sank.
He spent the day sulking on the couch. Occasionally, Spencer would curl up beside him, but he’d get bored after a few minutes and go find someone to bother. Ryan just stayed on the couch.
As the afternoon wore on and they were alone on the bus, Spencer joined Ryan on the couch.
“It’s only a few more days,” Spencer said, nuzzling close to Ryan. Ryan sighed.
“I know,” he told Spencer. But he didn’t move.
Eventually, the pair of them dozed off.
***
Ryan woke up as Spencer tumbled into the floor with a yelp. The couch wasn’t really made for two people. He squinted against the sun that drifted through the slats of the blinds.
And froze.
“Spencer,” Ryan said, his eyes wide. “Spencer the sun’s still up.”
Spencer smiled brightly, and Ryan all but lunged off the couch tackling Spencer back onto the floor and kissing him hard.
“No more kittens,” he said gleefully. “No more kittens and no more cat food and no more litter box, thank you God.”
Spencer laughed and kissed him back, and both of them got to their feet to hurry into the venue.
If they were quick, they could even still make soundcheck.
Right about here is where there would be some credits. There’s not much in the way of that, though. I think the only person who was really in on the writing of this was Sabrina. It wasn’t beta’d, because I suck as a person. A lot of my stuff goes up unbeta’d, actually. Not because I don’t need it, but because once I’m done I want it up and out of my hands, pretty much.
As for my writing process, it is thus: I’m sitting on the toilet, or possibly in the shower. I get struck by an idea. I usually forget it by the time I get anywhere I can actually start writing it down. What does get written is what you see in my fic journal. Most of the time, anyway. I figure out how to start, I whine I bitch I complain, and if you’re lucky(?) you can get snips sent to you on AIM or email if you’re down for that. And then I finish it. I post it and then I fret about getting comments. And there you go!
Ryan Ross / Spencer Smith ( Panic! At The Disco )
R
“You did what?”
“I had to, mom, you don’t understand. They were such jerks! They just walked right on past!”
“Honey, I’m sure that happens sometimes. That doesn’t give you the right to just curse those poor boys. I’ve told you and told you that you can’t just go around cursing people!”
I hear that Panic! At The Disco do this thing where they just walk right on by their fans, or ignore them, and shit like that. I kind of felt like pissing off a fan would be the best way to kick things off. It’s kind of funny, because if you look, "penises are for boys, vaginas are for girls, unless of course, something crazy happens. then anything's game." starts the exact same way. Well, not exact, since that one starts with Ryan pissing off a one-night stand. But you get my point. It’s a good jumping off place.
Interestingly enough, however, this part wasn’t originally at the beginning. The next section was the beginning, and when I finally needed a resolution, this came to be to match up with the ending.
***
Spencer felt like shit.
He hadn’t felt decent in the last… three, four days, and he’d spent as much time as possible avoiding people. Ryan had tried keeping him company, but Ryan was afraid that he’d get sick as well, and after that it was only a matter of time before they were all sick and miserable. But Ryan had stayed with him after the show the night before and helped him make his way out to the bus. They’d both felt guilty for ignoring the fans, but Ryan wasn’t strong enough to pick Spencer up and carry him to the bus if he passed out.
He twisted around and reached out to pull his blanket off his face, but his blanket seemed to have grown, and just one tug didn’t work. Neither did a second. Rolling over and pushing himself up didn’t make the edge of the blanket come into sight either.
It did, however, show him something… interesting. Instead of hands, he had furry white paws. Further inspection revealed to him that he had pretty much a furry everything. In fact, he appeared to be a very small, very fuzzy white kitten.
He struggled out from under the blanket, and his bunk was suddenly massive. This was so fucked up, he thought, stumbling over to the curtain and all but tumbling out. Walking on four feet was fucking hard. But he managed to land on his feet.
Now, the question was, how did he get from the floor into Ryan’s bunk?
The curtain was pulled away from the wall slightly at the foot of the bunk, and Spencer walked down, aimed, and took a running leap. He only sort of made it, half of his body dangling while he tried to claw his way up. At least some part of his brain was able to pick up quickly on how to work his new body. He managed to get into Ryan’s bunk, and…
It was empty.
At least, it seemed to be empty, but as he made his way down the mattress, he discovered there was a very small lump near the pillows that seemed to be, well, breathing. He poked it with a paw, and it made an unhappy noise and shifted over. He poked it again, and this time it didn’t even bother to move.
Ryan Ross doesn’t like to get up before he’s ready. I dare someone to prove me differently.
Spencer jumped on it.
The kitten that Spencer could only assume had once been Ryan Ross struggled out from underneath the blankets, swiping at Spencer with both paws, eyes closed. ( It was actually pretty much the same reaction boy-Spencer would have gotten from boy-Ryan if he’d jumped on him to wake him up. And about as effective. ) Then the other kitten froze, and cracked one eye open, looking at Spencer.
“What the fuck is going on?” Ryan demanded, looking at himself as best he could. Spencer was a sturdy little ball of white fluff, but Ryan was an even smaller ball of grey fuzz. “What the hell did you do?”
“What did I do?” Spencer asked, swiping at Ryan’s head with one of his paws. Ryan ducked and swiped back. “Like I would just decide to make us both cats? That’s like me asking you if you did this!”
“If I’d done this, I’d have made myself a bigger cat,” Ryan noted, twisting around and looking down at his little kitten body.
Tiny boy, tiny kitten.
“Do you… you know that girl last night, who was yelling crazy shit when we walked by?” Spencer asked. “Because we kind of ignored her?”
“Yeah, but you were about to like, fall down, Spence,” Ryan pointed out. “And that would have been embarrassing. Then she would’ve seen what a wimp I am while I was trying to drag you to the bus.”
Except now I know that Ryan is deceptively strong. I saw him push that fat guy in the pool with his little skinny stick arms that look like they’re going to snap.
“I’m sure security would have helped you,” Spencer said dryly. “No, do you think that maybe she did this?”
“Did becoming a kitten make your brain cells disappear?” Ryan asked. “Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life.” He got up and made his way over to the curtain. “Wow, if is a long way down.” A pause. “You think I can jump to Brendon’s bunk from here?”
“If you want to die, maybe,” Spencer said. “The jumping shit is hard. You’ll probably break your neck. It’ll be sad.”
“Well, I wanna see if Brendon’s a cat too,” Ryan explained.
“Go to the floor first and jump from there,” Spencer suggested. “That’s how I got up here.”
“Your bunk isn’t as far to the floor as mine,” Ryan said. “I want to know. He’s probably a kitten too.”
“I bet he isn’t,” Spencer said. “I’m telling you, it was that girl. She did some kind of Voo Doo shit.”
“Spencer, that’s crap, and you know it,” Ryan said. He backed up and took a running leap, trying to jump across the aisle to Brendon’s bunk.
Naturally, he didn’t make it, and let out a shriek as he crashed into the divider between Brendon’s bunk and Spencer’s and tumbled down to the floor. Brendon’s bunk curtain flew open and he stuck his head out, taking in the sight of the kitten standing at the edge of Ryan’s bunk and the kitten sprawled on the floor, stunned.
“Um. Guys?” Brendon asked. “When did we get kittens?”
***
“So do you think they’re really Ryan and Spencer?” Jon was asking. “Or are they playing some kind of sick joke?”
“I think… I don’t know,” Brendon said.
They were sitting on the floor with their backs against Jon’s bunk, looking at the two kittens, which they’d placed on Spencer’s bunk. The white one was sitting calmly, watching them, his tail swishing back and forth. The grey one, the one who had crashed into the divider, then the floor, was sprawled pathetically on the blanket.
Pathetic sprawling is really more of a Brendon Urie thing, but I suppose if you’d just crashed into a wall and weight like, half an ounce, you might sprawl pathetically, too. But you can bet your ass that if Brendon Urie was a kitten, he’d sprawl pathetically for five minutes and then he’d be up in your face, pawing at your chest and meowing at top volume.
“If they’re them, then they’d be able to understand us, right?” Jon said. “Maybe they can’t talk back, because, you know, different vocal cords, but they might be able to understand us.”
Brendon leaned forward and looked at the white kitten. “If you’re Spencer, then um…” Brendon said. What could he really ask the cat to do?
“How do you know that one’s Spencer?” Jon asked.
“Come on, one’s sitting there watching us and taking it all in, and the other one’s like, sulking,” Brendon said. The grey kitten lifted its head and looked at Brendon, twisting around and getting up, walking toward where the white one was sitting. “See, the grey one’s probably trying to figure out how to work his paws to flip me off right now.”
The grey kitten froze.
Busteddddd.
“See? They are Spencer and Ryan, and they can understand us,” Brendon said. The grey one continued over and took a swipe at Brendon’s nose, but his claws weren’t at the ready. “And that one’s Ryan.”
“Okay, fine, but … they’re cats, B. People just don’t spontaneously turn into cats,” Jon said, shaking his head. “And how the hell are we going to change them back? We have a show tomorrow.”
“I don’t know,” Brendon said. “Hopefully um. They’ll do it on their own?”
The kitten who had once been Spencer sighed and flopped down on the bed, swishing his tail at them.
***
Fortunately, they did change back to boys, once the sun went down. One moment, they were sprawled on Spencer’s bunk, and suddenly they were full sized boys again, and Ryan had fallen out on the floor with a surprised yelp.
***
“That was fucking bizarre,” Ryan said, plopping down on the couch and opening up a box of cereal. He was starving. Being a cat all day had sucked. Spencer sat down beside him, cracking open a can of soda and grabbing a hand full of dry cereal. “Let us never speak of it again.”
“Oh, come on,” Spencer said. “You were a cat for like, twelve hours, Ryan. Now you’re human again, and you can’t say that you didn’t have a little bit of fun?”
“I slammed into a wall,” Ryan said. “And Jon kind of touched me in inappropriate places.”
“They weren’t inappropriate places for a cat, I don’t think,” Spencer said, arching an eyebrow at Ryan. “Plus, if he did, it was probably accidental. Now, if it was Brendon, it would have been on purpose.”
During the writing of this scene, I was told that I couldn’t make Brendon a cat molester. And I was like, this is for comedic value. In the end, because I pretty much write what I want. I don’t actually think Brendon would molest cats.
They both laughed, and Ryan sighed. “Seriously, Ryan. You didn’t have any fun? At all? Flying through the air with the greatest of ease, at least until you smacked into the bunk?”
“Fuck off,” Ryan said. “And I’m telling Brendon you implied he was a cat molester.”
“Because you’re still, mentally, eight years old, Ryan, seriously,” Spencer said, reaching for more cereal. “You were always a tattler.”
Now that I think about it, I really doubt Ryan did a lot of tattling as a child. I mean, who is Ryan really going to tattle to? Teachers kind of frown on it when kids are tattletales. And since Spencer said it, what are the odds that Spencer’s mom would really believe Ryan over her own baby? Plus, Spencer was WAY MORE ADORABLE than Ryan as a kid. Ryan kind of looked ornery.
“Fuck you,” Ryan said sweetly, holding the cereal away so that Spencer couldn’t reach it. He hadn’t bothered to take into account that Spencer would just climb over him to get to the box. Spencer grabbed the edge of the box and Ryan tried to pull it away, but his fingers slipped, and suddenly they were caught in a rainstorm comprised of Cocoa Krispies.
Brendon walked into the lounge. He stopped, taking in the sight of Spencer sprawled across Ryan’s lap and Ryan with pieces of cereal in his hair.
“I don’t even want to know,” Brendon said, before turning around and walking out.
“Spencer says you’re a cat molester!” Ryan called after him, and then yelped when Spencer pinched him hard in the ribs.
But maybe Ryan grew up to be a tattler. He probably blackmails people. People like Pete Wentz.
***
Being boys didn’t last too long, because as soon as the sun started peeking through the thin curtains of the hotel room. Spencer woke up underneath the blankets again, and he knew instantly that he was a kitten again. Fuck.
He struggled out from underneath the blanket and made his way across the table separating the beds to the bed where Jon was still sleeping. He walked up to the other boy’s face and swatted at his nose, hoping that he’d wake up. Jon shook his head, then cracked one eye open.
He summed the situation up nicely with one word.
“Shit.”
***
“So what do we do?” Brendon asked. He was sitting on the bed with Spencer in his lap, petting the kitten’s fur. Spencer had tried not to enjoy it, but Brendon was petting him, and he was a cat. He liked it too much to keep trying not to enjoy it. Ryan was giving him what amounted to a dirty look. Spencer figured that it was because he was purring.
I debated about whether or not either of them would actually enjoy being a cat, and when it comes down to it, neither one of them would really like it. But I also think that Spencer, being the more practical of the two, would just say, ‘may as well make the most of it’ and let Brendon give him a good rub-down.
“I guess… I don’t know. Do you think they’ll turn back when the sun goes down again?” Jon asked. “Or should we cancel the show?”
“I’d rather not cancel the show unless we absolutely have to,” Brendon said. “I think they’ll turn back. Like, they’re just going to be cats for the day, and then… human again at night.”
“We are suddenly living in a really fucked up version of Shrek,” Jon said. Brendon laughed.
This was my BRILLIANT thing that I came up with while I was talking about this idea. I was like, well shit, I’m setting it during the summer tour, right? I don’t want to say they had to cancel shows, what do I do? In the end, they got Fiona-syndrome. Cat by day! Boy by night! Except for the part where Fiona was princess by day and ogre by night, but you understand what I’m getting at here.
***
Spencer had embraced spending the daylight hours as a kitten with an enthusiasm that, frankly, made Ryan a little ill. It had taken three days before Ryan had finally cracked and demanded to know how Spencer could possibly enjoy what was happening to them and not be completely freaking out, and could he please pass the ketchup.
“Well,” Spencer said, between bites of his burger. He was starving. They were going to have to look into getting food that was actually okay for kittens to eat, even if the idea of eating cat food made him queasy. “I just figure, it’s happening, so why not go with it. Enjoy it instead of being miserable and trying to scratch Brendon’s fingers off. He needs those, you know.”
“Well then he should stop trying to touch me so damn much,” Ryan said sulkily, slathering his fries in ketchup.
Every single time my roommate has fries, she eats more ketchup than fries. I do not know why I decided to give Ryan this attribute, but there you go. I like to include little things from real life that make me smile.
“You’re an adorable fuzzy kitten,” Spencer said, looking around and making sure that no one could hear them. They were sitting in a booth in the back of an International House of Pancakes at half-past three in the morning, stuffing their faces for the second time that night. “Of course he wants to pet you.”
“Then he’s going to deal with me trying to bite his fingers off,” Ryan said, picking up his veggie burger and taking a bite.
I was misleadingly informed that Ryan was a vegetarian. Now I know he’s not. My bad.
“Hey, you know what?” Spencer asked so suddenly and loud enough that Ryan choked on his burger and grabbed for his glass of Pepsi as he coughed. Spencer waited until Ryan looked up at him, sniffling, with his eyes watering.
“What?” he croaked.
“We’re like. Going to have to eat cat food.”
YUM YUM.
***
“I am not eating cat food,” Ryan hissed at Spencer. He was sulking inside Brendon’s hoodie pocket, the very tip of his nose sticking out.
If I had a kitten, I would want to carry it around in my hoodie pocket. I think I could also do this with the very tiny dog that I one day hope to have. Or not. I don’t know.
“You don’t have a choice,” Spencer told him. He was sitting on Brendon’s thigh, licking his paw. Jon looked over at the two kittens, hissing at each other, and then at Brendon, who was watching them, ready to push them off of him if they actually got into a cat-fight right there in his lap.
“I hate you a lot right now,” Ryan said, retreating into the pocket, so that he was just a tiny bulge in the fabric. He was quiet for a minute. “Do they make vegetarian cat-food?”
Once again, I got this wrong. I don’t know where I read that - maybe Ryan was at the time and that’s where this came from. Someone enlighten me?
“Probably not,” Spencer said, switching paws. Jon turned the rental car into the PetSmart parking lot and parked, turning off the vehicle and picking Spencer up as he got out. Brendon started trying to get Ryan out of his pocket as they walked into the building. Ryan stuck his claws in the fabric and wouldn’t let Brendon pull him out.
“Ryan,” Spencer said. “Just go with this, man. You’ll be a lot happier. Especially if you let people pet you.”
“Fuck you,” Ryan all but snarled, trying to curl farther into the pocket, but there was nowhere else for him to go. Spencer sighed. Why did Ryan have to be so damn stubborn all the time?
***
It turned out, that some of the Very Helpful Employees in the store were Very Cute Girls who had weaknesses for Cute Boys With Kittens. Including one very perky blonde who squeaked and hurried toward them when Jon came around an aisle carrying Spencer.
If a boy as adorable as Jon Walker walked up to you with a kitten as adorable and fuzzy as Spencer in this fic, you’d fall all over yourself to help him out, too.
“Is there something I can help you with?” she asked. And then, “that is the cutest kitten ever.” Spencer’s ears perked up at that. Why, of course he was. “Would you mind if I held him?”
Jon shrugged. He’d leave that up to Spencer. And Spencer? Was totally cool with that. If a cute girl wanted to pick him up and snuggle him. Especially since the girl’s idea of “holding” him seemed to be pressing him against her breasts and scratching his head vigorously. The kitten part of him was pleased with the skritches, the boy part of him sort of went, hey, breasts. He was sure this was exploiting women in some vague way, but hey, she was the one squishing him against her boobs. He didn’t ask for her to do it.
He purred. Jon laughed.
Spencer is down for girls squishing him to his boobs. Which is sort of weird, since this is slash, but whatever. Jon Walker knows what this purring thing is all about.
“Jon?”
Jon turned as Brendon came around the corner, trying to pry his kitten-charge out of his pocket. Ryan had stuck his claws into the cloth and wasn’t coming loose, and Brendon didn’t want to tear up his hoodie. “Help,” Brendon said, frowning and tugging at the tiny kitten body in his pocket.
“You shouldn’t have let him get in there,” Jon said. “Especially since you knew that he wouldn’t come out.”
“I feel sorry for him,” Brendon said. Ryan very, very carefully stuck his claw into Brendon’s stomach at that. “Ow, little jerk.” He pulled the hoodie away from his body so that Ryan couldn’t get him again.
I sort of get the impression that if there was much more clawing, Brendon would have choked little tiny kitten Ryan out.
“Is that another kitten?” the blonde asked, tipping her head and looking at Jon reaching into Brendon’s hoodie pocket to try and pry Ryan free. She stopped petting Spencer as she watched them. Spencer meowed for her attention, and she went back to petting him as Jon finally picked Ryan free of Brendon’s pocket.
“Aww,” the girl said, “he’s so cute!”
Dammit, Spencer thought. He was going to kick Ryan’s ass later if the girl stopped petting him in favor of Ryan.
“Yeah, on the outside,” Brendon said, taking Ryan back from Jon and holding onto him, making sure that he could neither scratch nor bite nor climb back into Brendon’s clothes. He did, however squirm. A lot. “Don’t try to pet him, cuz he might bite your hand off.”
“Aww,” the girl said, and this time it was sad. Spencer made a face at Ryan. Ryan poked his tongue out at Spencer, and Spencer laughed. A brunette employee came around the corner.
“Do you guys need some help?” she asked, looking at her coworker like she wasn’t doing her job.
The blonde totally always did way more flirting with customers than she did helping. The brunette wasn’t above flirting with Cute Boys With Kittens, but honestly, here.
“They’re letting me pet their kitten,” the blonde said with a wide smile.
“We’re actually looking for kitten-food,” Jon said, watching as Ryan tried to squirm out of Brendon’s hand, and succeeded, ducking down into Brendon’s hoodie. Brendon squirmed, because not only was Ryan occasionally accidentally poking him with his sharp kitten-claws, but it fucking tickled.
“Trade me kittens,” Brendon said dramatically. The brunette laughed.
“Uh,” Jon said, pretending to think about it. “No.” He smiled at Brendon.
“That’s cold, man,” Brendon said, unzipping his hoodie and fishing Ryan out. “But yeah, kitten food.” He wrapped his hand around Ryan and held onto him as tight as he dared. He didn’t want to hurt Ryan, not really.
“Follow me,” The brunette said, and she started off down the aisle. They all followed her, with the blonde still carrying Spencer.
“Oh,” Brendon said after a moment. “Vegetarian kitten food? Do you guys have that?”
“Sure,” said the blonde. “But it’s really healthier for kittens to eat the regular kind.”
“This one won’t eat anything else,” Brendon said, waving Ryan around in a way that made the kitten meow. Brendon figured the meow could have meant anything from “you’re damn right I’m only going to eat vegetarian” to “stop waving me around, motherfucker”. Brendon figured it was probably the latter since Ryan proceeded to try to bite him.
“Ohh, cranky and finicky?” the brunette said, looking at Ryan.
“Always,” Jon said, because that was actually a pretty fair description.
“But we love him anyway,” Brendon said.
***
One day, Ryan and Spencer were going to figure out how to turn back into boys without falling off of things. That particular night, Spencer had fallen off the couch with a yelp that echoed the one Brendon let out when he suddenly had a lap full of Ryan Ross.
Ryan blinked at him. “Hi,” Ryan said.
Brendon looked at him. “Are you going to get out of my lap?”
… you know, for all they’re my OTP, I really don’t write that much fic about them. This could have gone so much farther than it actually did.
“No, I think I’ll stay right here,” Ryan said, smiling.
“Oooookay,” Brendon said. “But I just want you to know that you’re severely impeding the progress of my texting now.”
“Cat food is disgusting, Brendon,” Ryan informed him. “Humor me, all right?” Ryan slid off of Brendon’s lap and onto the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “And I am not eating any more of it.”
“You’re going to get awfully hungry,” Spencer said from his place lying on the floor. Ryan poked him in the ribs with the toe of his shoe.
***
True to his word, Ryan did not eat any more cat food after that. The downside of this was that he was completely starving by the time he did turn back into a boy. But it was okay for the first couple of days. After that, however, he started getting listless, curling up in his bunk and not moving.
After a few days, it actually started to scare Spencer.
“Ryan,” Spencer said, head-butting Ryan gently in the side and waking him up. Ryan cracked one eye open and looked at Spencer.
“What?” he asked, sounding tired. Spencer flopped down beside him.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asked, looking at Ryan laying there. Ryan let his eyes drift shut again.
“I’m fine,” Ryan said. “I’m just tired.”
“Because you’re killing yourself,” Spencer whispered. Ryan lifted his head up to look at Spencer.
“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked.
“Kittens eat like, forty three times a day or something, Ry,” Spencer said, looking at him intently. “Because they’re tiny and use up what they eat really quickly. So you’re pretty much starving yourself to death. That’s why you don’t have any energy.”
“I’m fine, Spencer,” Ryan said, curling up smaller and going back to sleep. Spencer sighed and curled up against him.
Spencer had never really been much of a worrier. That was Ryan’s thing. Right then, he was so worried that he was almost sick.
***
Ryan stumbled and fell against the wall when he turned back into a boy, a few days after Spencer had curled up against him. He was dizzy, and he was fucking starving. He pushed himself back into an upright position and made his way down the hall to where someone had ever-so-kindly brought them dinner. He just hoped no one had noticed.
Jon grabbed his arm before he could go into the room.
“Can this wait until after I eat?” Ryan asked petulantly, reaching up and running shaking fingers through his hair. He felt fucking weak.
“It could, but I need to talk to you away from everyone else, right now, and I won’t have a chance later,” Jon said.
“Hurry up, then,” Ryan said.
“Look,” Jon said. “I know you hate this kitten thing. I know you don’t like it and I know that you hate the cat food, but Ryan, I saw you almost fall down back there. You’re killing yourself as a kitten, and that’s hurting you as a human. You have got to start eating, okay?”
“I’m fine, Jon,” Ryan said.
“You’re shaking, Ryan, and you’re swaying on your fucking feet. Spencer was fucking crying last night, he’s so upset, so scared for you,” Jon said.
“O-oh,” Ryan said, suddenly feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t… I didn’t know.”
“Now you do,” Jon said. “And I know you probably don’t want to eat the cat-food still, because I’ve smelled it, Ry, I’m sure it’s disgusting. But you’re scaring Spencer to death, and I’m not going to say that I’m not worried, and that Brendon’s not either. Just don’t make yourself sick anymore.”
“Okay,” Ryan said, defeated. He hadn’t meant to scare anyone, and he hadn’t meant to make himself sick.
He just hadn’t wanted to eat the cat food.
I had serious doubts about including these last two passages, because I wasn’t sure that it wasn’t too melodramatic for the overall… whatever. I worry about that every time I reread this. And then I think, you know what? It serves a purpose in that Jon telling him how upset Spencer is over this causes Ryan to embrace his cat-ness a little bit. And that makes everything completely lovely.
***
Ryan was holding his breath. He was pretty sure that he must have fallen asleep and was having some kind of bizarre dream brought on by eating the cat food. Because he was almost positive that Spencer would not be fucking licking him if he wasn’t dreaming.
“Spencer,” Ryan said, not opening his eyes. He was totally dreaming. In conclusion: dreaming. “Are you licking me?”
The licking stopped. “Grooming you,” Spencer said, and then went on about his business. Okay, Ryan thought. This being a cat garbage was getting really fucked up.
“Why?” Ryan asked.
“Because you don’t do it. And you look gross,” Spencer said.
“Oh, thanks,” Ryan said.
Ryan Ross would not allow himself to look gross, now would he? (Don’t answer that, for the love of God.)
“It’s true,” Spencer said, and resumed licking with a certain amount of glee. Ryan fought his way free of Spencer and bounced off of his bunk, sprinting down the hallway and jumping up onto the couch, burrowing into Brendon’s hoodie while the other boy tried to keep playing Halo.
I don’t know why I picked Halo, of all games. I’m sure they have an X-Box, but the only game I know for sure that is played on the Panic! bus is Final Fantasy. Of course, I didn’t know this at the time, because Jon hadn’t made that lovely little post where he linked up the cover of FFXII. (Which sucks, btw, don’t even get me started on that fucking battle system. I’m a purist.) I guess I decided that Halo was the most masculine thing ever. (As a sidenote: I tried to play Halo once. I’m not coordinated enough.)
“What the fuck?” Brendon asked, even though he knew that neither Ryan nor Spencer, who had just landed in his lap and was going into his hoodie after Ryan, could answer him. They were fucking fighting. Inside his hoodie.
He unzipped his sweatshirt and dumped them both out onto the floor. Spencer pounced on Ryan and held him down. Spencer was a bigger kitten than Ryan, and Ryan finally gave up struggling and sulked, squished onto the floor underneath most of Spencer’s body.
“What. The hell.” Brendon said. He got no answer other than Spencer starting to groom Ryan again. Brendon just laughed helplessly as his character on the screen got demolished.
***
“Why can’t you just go along with this kitten thing?” Spencer asked. He and Ryan were sitting in the middle of Spencer’s hotel bed with trays that room service had brought up. It was nearly four in the morning.
Ryan stuffed a nacho into his mouth and chewed vigorously, swallowing before he answered. “Because I don’t like being a cat,” Ryan said, like this was the most obvious thing in the entire world.
“I don’t either,” Spencer said, dipping a French fry into the ocean he’d made on his plate out of about thirty packets of ketchup. “But I mean, I’m making the most of it.”
KETCHUP AGAIN. I don’t know why I keep putting that in there. But I do know that now I want some nachos. Mmmm, nachos.
“I am not you,” Ryan said, sticking another nacho in his mouth and hunting around for his napkin to wipe his fingers off.
“Trust me, I definitely noticed that,” Spencer said.
“Fuck you,” Ryan sing-songed around a mouthful of food. Spencer laughed at him.
“Seriously, though, Ryan,” Spencer said, swirling another fry through the ketchup. “Just try and enjoy it, okay? You’re going to be miserable if we’re stuck like this forever.”
“Ew, don’t even say that,” Ryan said, making a face as he picked up another nacho, using his other hand to pile stuff back onto it. “I don’t want to keep turning into a kitten every day forever.”
“Well, we probably won’t, but we don’t know how long it’s going to be, Ryan,” Spencer said, reaching for his soda. “So just… try and go with it for a while, okay?”
Ryan shrugged. “I don’t want to,” he said.
“Maybe you should,” Spencer said. “Be less of a bitch as a cat and be less of a bitch as a person.” Ryan looked up sharply.
“I am not a bitch,” Ryan said. He paused. “Any more than normal.”
At least you recognize that you’re a bitch, RyRo.
“You are way… you’re a lot nastier than normal now, Ryan,” Spencer said. Ryan may not have even noticed that he was being that way, but he was. He hardly ever smiled at all anymore.
Ryan was quiet for a minute, piling his nachos back up. “Am I really?” Ryan asked quietly, looking back up at Spencer.
“Yeah,” Spencer said. “You just need to chill out, though. That’s all it is.” Then he smirked. “Brendon says you just need to get laid.”
“Uh huh,” Ryan said. “By who, exactly? And when?”
I cannot tell you how many conversations about catsex this conversation spawned. Let’s not talk about catsex. I mean, unless you want to talk about how it happened the other night outside my apartment, for like, an hour, and the girl that lives downstairs finally yelled “SHUT THE FUCK UP I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU.” We were all thinking it. She was just saying it.
Spencer waited for Ryan to look up at him before leaning across the trays spread out on the bed and pressing his lips to Ryan’s. It wasn’t the first time and Spencer knew he shouldn’t be doing it. The thought was only compounded by the fact that Ryan didn’t kiss him back, and was looking at him, confused, when he pulled back with his lips burning slightly from the jalapenos Ryan had been eating on his nachos.
“Why’d you do that?” Ryan asked quietly, still looking confused. It hurt Spencer’s feelings, because no one wanted to have someone they just kissed look at them like that.
“Because you needed it,” Spencer said. Ryan’s eyes widened a little, and then he frowned.
“Spencer, we weren’t going to do this anymore,” Ryan said, his voice sounding a little funny, even to himself. “We were…”
“These are special circumstances, Ry,” Spencer said. Ryan nodded his head. “Can you hand me my soda, please?” Spencer added, not quite meeting Ryan’s eyes. “My lips are kind of burning.”
I like the idea that Spencer’s mouth is burning from being up against Ryan’s when Ryan’s had the nachos. I think this scene was actually spawned by a roleplay scene I was doing, wherein my character had nachos and was told to brush his teeth before administering a blowjob. Also, Spencer’s kind of a wuss here. Spencer Smith is so very much not a wuss.
Ryan smiled slightly as he turned and picked up one of the open cans of soda from the nightstand, handing it to Spencer. Spencer took a drink, pressing his lips together. Ryan watched him, then took the can back to put it back on the nightstand. He picked at his nachos thoughtfully for a little while.
“I don’t see how you can eat those things,” Spencer said, dragging another French fry through the ketchup on his plate. “I didn’t even eat them and my mouth is burning.”
That’s three mentions of ketchup for those who are keeping track. Also, Spencer. Still a wuss. How is he more of a wuss than Ryan Ross? I have no idea.
“That’s what you get for stealing kisses,” Ryan said, smiling slightly. Spencer’s heart jumped, because he hadn’t seen that kind of smile on Ryan’s face in a long, long time. Since long before they’d been turning into kittens for the daytime.
They finished eating in silence and Ryan got up to move the trays to the table as Spencer moved back over to pick up his soda. He finished it and tossed the can in the general direction of the trashcan, surprised to see it actually go in ( if it hadn’t, Ryan would have picked it up, because that was the way things went ). He raised both arms into the air.
It’s the little things, I guess. Maybe I gave him good aim because I was making him such a pussy about the jalapenos.
“I’m awesome,” Spencer informed Ryan. Ryan laughed, and climbed onto the bed beside Spencer. Then he leaned in and kissed Spencer.
This time it was Spencer’s turn to be startled. The way Ryan had acted when Spencer had kissed him, this was the last thing Spencer would ever have expected. But it wasn’t unpleasant, except that Ryan’s lips still burned Spencer’s, but it wasn’t in an unpleasant way. Then Ryan pulled away, licking his lips.
“So why’d you do that?” Spencer asked. “If you didn’t want to do this anymore. If we’re through with this whole… me and you trying things out… thing.”
“Maybe I just needed something familiar, Spence,” Ryan whispered. “Or maybe… maybe it’s just you. You make it sound like everything’s going to be okay, even if I’m turning into a kitten every fucking day.”
“It is going to be okay, Ryan,” Spencer said, and suddenly he felt like he was about fifteen again, hugging Ryan and telling him that things would be okay, and if worse came to worse, Ryan could always come and live with Spencer, his parents wouldn’t mind.
“Promise?” Ryan whispered, his lips almost pressed against Spencer’s as he spoke.
“Promise,” Spencer said, and closed the space between their mouths.
Fade to black, which is my favourite way to get out of having to write sex. I hate writing sex, dudes. Also, during the writing of this thing, I sort of had fooled around with the idea of it being Brendon/Ryan (I wonder why?) and Ryan having experimented with Spencer at some point. And then what this whole scene came back to was being the best friend-ness, but also being two boys that were maybe kind of a little gay and thought the best way to figure themselves out would be to experiment on each other. Of course, they could never, ever talk about it afterward. And then they started turning into kittens and all bets were off.
***
Ryan gave up and embraced being a kitten in the worst way possible. This meant that he became a total attention whore, constantly curling up in Jon or Brendon’s lap and yowling at them until they gave him what he wanted, whether it was skritches or anything else.
So basically, what I’m saying is that Ryan turned into what Brendon would’ve been from the start. Oops.
Ryan was curled up in Brendon’s lap and both of them were asleep the afternoon that Spencer fell in the toilet.
At least they were in the hotel room, and at least whoever had used it last had flushed, but it didn’t change the fact that Spencer was suddenly very wet. And not pleased about it. He clawed his way out and made his way into the bedroom, jumping up onto the bed, dripping water. He meowed loudly, head butting Ryan hard to wake him up.
Initially I wanted to have him fall into the toilet on the bus, because that’s infinitely more disgusting than anywhere else you could fall into a toilet, except maybe a gas station. Then I realized that pretty much, a bus moves, and if you’ve ever been in any kind of RV, you know that the toilet lid has to stay down, otherwise there are some very startling noises later on. So Spencer, bouncy little kitty that he is, went in the hotel toilet. They’re boys. Odds are they didn’t even flush.
“What the fuck,” Ryan asked. Then he looked at Spencer. “Why are you wet? Why do you smell like toilet?”
Realization struck.
“You fell in the toilet!” Ryan yelled, and the actual meow came out loud enough to wake Brendon up. Brendon looked down at Ryan rolling around laughing on his lap, and dripping wet Spencer.
This makes Ryan’s day and is possibly the funniest thing that’s happened all year.
“Jon,” Brendon said, and picked Ryan up off his lap, putting him down on the bed, reaching over the side and picking up someone’s flip flop. He threw it at Jon, who grunted when it glanced off the top of his head. “Jonathon.”
“What?” Jon asked, still half asleep.
“Where in this room is there enough water for a cat to be soaking wet?” Brendon asked, watching as Spencer all but attacked Ryan.
“I don’t know,” Jon said, punching at his pillow. “The toilet?”
Brendon let out a snort of laughter as Ryan climbed up his t-shirt in a desperate bid to get away from Spencer. “Your cat fell in the toilet, then,” Brendon said. Jon lifted his head.
“My cat? In the toilet?” Jon asked. Brendon picked Spencer up and carried him over to the other bed, Ryan riding on his shoulder, holding on with his claws and trying not to dig into Brendon’s skin.
“See?” Brendon said, dropping Spencer on the bed in front of Jon’s face. Jon’s nose wrinkled up.
“He’s not my cat,” Jon said. “He’s not anyone’s cat.”
Remember how Brendon wanted to trade Jon kittens earlier when Ryan was being a bitch? He’s changed his mind. He doesn’t want Spencer the Toilet Cat.
“He officially became your responsibility when he fell in the toilet, because you were the last one in there,” Brendon informed him, and then went to wash his hands.
***
Spencer was officially a ball of fluff.
And Ryan was laughing at him again.
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, when Jon had taken him into the bathroom and washed him off ( because a bath in toilet-water was so not good ), then dried him. He was still mostly wet, and he’d meowed at Jon, because being wet felt weird and uncomfortable. Jon looked at the hairdryer, then back at Spencer.
“Do you think it would work?” Jon asked, and he supposed if a kitten could shrug, that would be what Spencer did. “Do you want to try it.”
You’re talking to the cat, Jon Walker. Are you crazy?
That was definitely a nod.
Of course, the cat is talking back. Betcha Dylan doesn’t do that.
Twenty minutes later, after a few minutes of very careful drying with the dryer on the lowest setting and with multiple breaks so that he didn’t overheat the kitten.
The result was a total ball of fluff that he carried back into the other room and dumped on the bed with Ryan, who was curled up asleep. Brendon was on the other bed, stretched out on his stomach, asleep. Spencer meowed for Ryan’s attention.
Somewhere there is a drawing of Spencer post-blowdryer. I hope that I threw it away, though.
Ryan opened his eyes and looked at Spencer. He stared for a moment. And then he started laughing.
“Stop fucking laughing at me,” Spencer hissed at him. Ryan continued laughing, his tail flicking through the air. Brendon woke up and looked over at them, squinting before fumbling for his glasses.
“… what did you do to Spencer?” Brendon asked. Jon shrugged.
“Blow-dried him,” Jon said. Brendon’s eyebrows shot up somewhere near his hairline.
“And you thought that was a good idea… why?” Brendon asked.
“Hey, Spencer thought it was a good idea too,” Jon said defensively. “Besides, you have to admit, it’s really cute.”
Spencer smacked Ryan on the head with his paw and a short wrestling match filled with hissing and meowing ensued, ending with Ryan half on top of Spencer, grooming him and trying to get the fur to lay down. Spencer sighed dramatically, and Brendon laughed, taking his glasses back off and stretching back out to go to sleep.
Ryan! Embracing his kitten-ness! Grooming Spencer!
***
The letter arrived almost two months after they started turning into kittens. None of them really knew how it had arrived, but it had shown up in the middle of the kitchen table on the bus one night as they traveled from one venue to the next. Brendon swore that he’d heard a bird fluttering, but Brendon was a little tipsy, too, so none of them really gave it much credit.
There was no return address. There was no address, just two names written carefully in script on the front of the envelope.
Spencer Smith
Ryan Ross
“You’ve got like, a fucking Hogwarts letter,” Jon said, then started laughing as Spencer reached out and snapped the envelope up off the table.
“That would be awesome,” Ryan informed him. “However, you are, unfortunately, completely delusional.” He pushed his hair out of his face, still sweaty from being onstage and pulling on it pretty much made it stick straight up in the air.
Panic! At The Disco like Harry Potter. This is canonical, I believe. I plan to, in the future, write a fic where they are all wizards and the reason they kicked Brent out of the band was because he was a squib. They go to school in Canada. Ryan is whiny. Nothing abnormal there.
Spencer opened up the envelope and Ryan hung over his shoulder to read it.
Spencer and Ryan,
I would like to extend my apologies for the last two months of your lives. I realize that they may have been quite difficult for you, and under any circumstances, my forthcoming explanation would be so unbelievable that you would simply throw this letter into the garbage and probably forget that you ever received it.
However, since you have spent the last two months turning into kittens during the daytime, I think that you’ll find my explanation somewhat less farfetched.
I am very, very sorry for the curse that my daughter placed on the two of you. She was upset that you bypassed her after a show, and in her anger, cast the spell without thinking. She has been fully reprimanded and the spell should wear off within the next week or so, I assure you.
She is a very young witch and sometimes does things out of anger without thinking, and I am very sorry that she did this to you.
Though perhaps this will make you think twice before you bypass your fans.
Sincerely,
Zelda Spellman
So technically this is a Sabrina the Teenage Witch crossover. Yeah, I don’t know either, you guys.
“I was sick!” Spencer yelled. “I felt like ass and no one would have wanted me around!” He flailed his hands around, waving the letter. “Ryan was carrying me back to the bus! I mean, well, not carrying me, but… I was sick!”
“Apparently this lady thinks that you should share your germs with everyone,” Jon pointed out. Beside him, Brendon laughed. But then again, Brendon thought that everything was funnier after he’d had a little bit to drink. Jon rolled his eyes.
“And my vomit when I puked all over the place,” Spencer said. “No one was going to appreciate that.”
“I wouldn’t have appreciated that,” Ryan added. “Especially since then I would have thrown up.”
“Yeah, but that’s because you’re a wimp,” Spencer said. “This is unbelievable. We got cursed by a witch. Seriously.”
Which was what Spencer said to start with and no one believed him.
“Do you think that it’s really going to wear off within the next week?” Ryan asked. That was what he was the most interested in.
“She says it will,” Spencer said.
“I hope it does,” Ryan said, and he was all but dancing when he ducked into his bunk for the night.
***
They turned into kittens again as soon as the sun rose, and Ryan wanted to cry. Sure, she’d said within the next week, but Ryan had still been hoping that he wouldn’t wake up the next morning a kitten. When he did, his heart sank.
He spent the day sulking on the couch. Occasionally, Spencer would curl up beside him, but he’d get bored after a few minutes and go find someone to bother. Ryan just stayed on the couch.
As the afternoon wore on and they were alone on the bus, Spencer joined Ryan on the couch.
“It’s only a few more days,” Spencer said, nuzzling close to Ryan. Ryan sighed.
“I know,” he told Spencer. But he didn’t move.
Eventually, the pair of them dozed off.
***
Ryan woke up as Spencer tumbled into the floor with a yelp. The couch wasn’t really made for two people. He squinted against the sun that drifted through the slats of the blinds.
And froze.
“Spencer,” Ryan said, his eyes wide. “Spencer the sun’s still up.”
Spencer smiled brightly, and Ryan all but lunged off the couch tackling Spencer back onto the floor and kissing him hard.
“No more kittens,” he said gleefully. “No more kittens and no more cat food and no more litter box, thank you God.”
Spencer laughed and kissed him back, and both of them got to their feet to hurry into the venue.
If they were quick, they could even still make soundcheck.
Right about here is where there would be some credits. There’s not much in the way of that, though. I think the only person who was really in on the writing of this was Sabrina. It wasn’t beta’d, because I suck as a person. A lot of my stuff goes up unbeta’d, actually. Not because I don’t need it, but because once I’m done I want it up and out of my hands, pretty much.
As for my writing process, it is thus: I’m sitting on the toilet, or possibly in the shower. I get struck by an idea. I usually forget it by the time I get anywhere I can actually start writing it down. What does get written is what you see in my fic journal. Most of the time, anyway. I figure out how to start, I whine I bitch I complain, and if you’re lucky(?) you can get snips sent to you on AIM or email if you’re down for that. And then I finish it. I post it and then I fret about getting comments. And there you go!