Kittens
Pairing: Jules Bianchi/Charles Pic/Jean-Eric Vergne
For, and beta-d by ispun
Rating: black flag
Warning: animal/kitten play.
It’s a ritual, by now. Jules is gone, out somewhere, it doesn’t matter where. What matters is that Charles is staring at him, head tipped to one side as they kneel on the bathroom floor. He frowns, then lifts a hand up to move one of Jean-Eric’s ears a little to the left, then nods, obediently sits still so Jean-Eric can arrange his own, lifting a paw to bat at Jean-Eric’s hand when it tickles the back of his neck. Jean-Eric growls, gently, pounces at him, nuzzling at Charles’ tummy because he knows it tickles even more than the back of his neck. Charles squeaks, paws pushing at Jean-Eric’s shoulder as he squirms on the warm tiles. Jules has under-floor heating in the bathroom, and even though the whole house is warm, the heating deliberately turned up for them before Jules had left, they like it in here, settling into this, letting their brains stop running faster than their cars, as Jean-Eric stops teasing and yawns, nuzzling at Charles’ chest, lying there, perfectly comfortable even on the tile.
They snooze there for a while, relaxing into it, before Jean-Eric clambers over Charles, nudging their collars over towards Charles. Really, they should have done this straight after the ears, because now they have to let paws become hands again, just for a brief minute. But then they put their mittens on too, and it’s easier to tumble back into that wonderful, clear headspace, and Charles cocks his head to one head before he leaps at Jean-Eric, bell on his collar ringing merrily as he pounces.
They play for a little while, delighting in it, the way that all their worries fall away. It’s easier to sleep when they’re exhausted from playing, flopped on the fluffy rug in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth of the fire dancing over their bare skin, the feel of their bodies pressed together.
That’s how Jules finds them, when he returns, and he leans on the doorframe for a while, watching them sleep. Jean-Eric wakes as he’s putting the groceries away, winding around his legs, butting at his knees until Jules bends down to pet him, stroking his head and letting Jean-Eric nuzzle at his cheek in welcome. The heat of his nose is shocking against the cold of his cheek - autumn is strengthening its hold - and Jules pulls off his scarf, teasing Jean-Eric with it, jerking it across the floor and watching Jean-Eric watch it before he pounces on it.
He runs off with it, and Jules busies himself with finishing his task before he follows, laughing as he finds Charles sleepily fighting Jean-Eric for the scarf. “Stop it, you’ve got your own toys,” he chastises them, tugging his clothing back from them. Charles purrs, butting at his hand, begging for a scratch behind the ears that Jules is all too willing to give. “Come on, kitties,” he murmurs, leaves them sitting on the floor while he goes to hunt down their box of toys.
This is how Jean-Eric had known that Jules had taken the course of their relationship seriously, the fact that he’s bothered to go and find all these things. It had been little things, at first, a Halloween costume sparking the first interest, but then they’d realised how much Jean-Eric had needed the escape. And then Jules had done his research, and Jean-Eric had loved him for it, because Jules had been careful to only add something new when he knew that Jean-Eric needed it. Charles had been a sort of accidental addition. He’d watched, the first time, even more skittish than Jean-Eric was, and Jean-Eric had been truly skittish around him, hiding under the table in true kitten style. But he’d carefully reached out a hand for Jean-Eric to sniff at, and Jean-Eric had happily curled up in his lap instead of Jules’ for a while. He’d admitted he’d wanted that, after long, long discussions with Jean-Eric, ones Jules watched them have, curled up on the sofa while he cooked breakfast for all of them, the morning after. And then Charles has shyly asked for it too, and Jules had been unable to resist. And then he’d had two kittens curled up with him that evening, and Charles had taken some time to work out how to be a kitten, but they’d got there, in the end.
And now Jules thinks he’d ready for the next step. Charles is always more cautious of change than Jean-Eric is, even collaring him had been a huge step forwards, and it had taken Jules some serious work to build up the trust they’d needed. But it had been something Charles had needed, to wear his collar, to belong to Jules, to trust that Jules would take care of him. And Jules adores taking care of him, and Jean-Eric too, and that starts with keeping them happy, so he sits down on the floor with them, tugging string across the floor and watching them pounce after it, teasing them with it. But soon enough, they’re tired again, after all, they’re only kittens, and all this play is tiring. So Jules leaves them sleeping again, brushes kisses over their noses first and takes himself off for a shower, washing his own cares away because he needs to be the adult here, to let them not be, just for a few blissful hours.
And now it’s time for the next step, tonight, but that can wait because there’s half a game of football left to watch on the TV, and Jules settles down on the sofa in just his worn pyjama pants, patting the sofa until Charles leaps up to sprawl on one side of him and Jean-Eric settles on his other side, both of them purring as he pets them, running his fingers through soft fur, trailing fingers down their spines as they enjoy his touch.
Enjoying Jules’ touch soon become more than just enjoying it for the comfort alone. Charles is always the first to respond in that way, weak little whimper as he pushes into Jules’ touch, arching his back, squirming a little, almost rubbing his cock against the sofa. Jules reaches out with a flattened hand, smacks his arse. “Don’t dirty the sofa,” he warns, and Charles mewls, rolling onto his back, looking up at him with a pleading expression. “Don’t.” His cock is hardening against his stomach, and Jules swallows his moan. Jean-Eric stretches sleepily, reaches up to bat at Jules’ face, and gets a tummy rub in return, Jules deliberately dipping near to his cock, but nowhere near enough, and Jean-Eric turns a pleading expression very similar to Charles on him. “After I’ve watched this,” he promises them, bites back a groan as Charles squirms again, head pushing against his cock, and he knows Charles is doing it deliberately, so he reaches out again, palm coming down sharply against his side, because he’s learnt now how to discipline them, learnt that actions speak louder than words. “Behave. Now is not the time for that.”
Jean-Eric falls asleep again, while the football continues, but Charles squirms around, won’t settle, continues acting up, and Jules knows that he needs more of his time, so he leaves Jean-Eric curled up, tucks a blanket over him, and so he leads Charles into his bedroom, encourages him up onto the bed and just spends time petting him, having that time alone with him that Charles needs sometimes. Sometimes Charles just needs that reaffirmation of their relationship, to reaffirm that this is still ok, that they both still want this. “I bought a present for you,” Jules murmurs, letting Charles nuzzle his hand with his nose, cuddling him on his lap. “Hm? You like presents, don’t you? Pretty kitty. I always want to buy you presents. Although you like the wrapping paper more, don’t you?” He fights his way free of the cuddly kitten and hunts down the wrapped gift. (He’d only wrapped it because he knows how much Charles likes playing with the paper.)
Charles grows predictably irritated with the paper, and Jules can’t help but laugh. Charles growls, cute little kitten noise, and bites at the paper instead. He frowns at it when he finally gets it open with Jules’ help, crinkly paper trapped under a paw not even catching his attention. “You had to have your own, I’ve seen you looking at Jean-Eric’s. I’ve seen you wanting it,” Jules whispers, deliberately trailing his fingers down Charles’ spine. “Let me get you ready, kitten.” And Charles closes his eyes, arching his back into Jules’ touch, and lets Jules roll him onto his front, slide lube-slick fingers into him, stretching him carefully, sliding his new tail plug into him. It’s the first time Charles has had something other than a cock or fingers up his arse, and he nearly comes as Jules pushes it in as deep as it will go, except Jules tightens a hand around the base of his cock and watches as Charles mewls pitifully. “Not yet, kitten.”
He leaves him then, laid out on the bed and playing with his new tail while he wanders back into the living room. Jean-Eric is awake again, stretched out across the sofa because he can. Jules though, prefers him on the floor, standing there while Jules repeats the process. Jean-Eric turns delighted eyes on Jules afterwards, twitching slightly so the tail flicks a little from side-to-side. He paws at Jules’ pyjama pants, tugging them down a little. He manages to pull them down more with his teeth, and they catch on Jules’ cock, delicious friction that makes a moan escape unstopped.
And then he can’t take it slow, yanks them off so fast he nearly falls over and then chases Jean-Eric into the bedroom. They both freeze when Jules opens the door for Jean-Eric, breath catching in their throat as they catch sight of Charles.
Jules knows now, that this had been the right thing to do, to buy the tail for Charles. He’s worked himself into a knot, limbs twisted around his body, playing with his tail, mewing, hips jerking in an attempt to get friction from the air, not that it’s working. He freezes when he notices they’re there, blushing. Jules reaches down, rubbing at his cock. Jean-Eric jumps up onto the bed with him, nuzzles along Charles’ stomach, little licks all over as Charles wriggles, pushing up into the soft touch. “Come on boys, don’t leave me out,” Jules says, watches them both turn to look at him. He crawls onto the bed to join them, lets them part to let him lie between them. Jean-Eric, as always, is first to make a move, leans in to lick curiously at the growing pool of pre-come smeared across Jules’ stomach, purring, and Charles is quick to copy him, bumping heads with Jean-Eric. Jules moans underneath them, one hand rising to encourages Charles, always the shyer of the two kittens. “Come on, dirty little kitties,” he moans, hand tightening in Charles’ fur, the other grasping the sheets, hips rolling upwards towards them. Jean-Eric gives him a curious glance, and has to be tempted towards Jules’ cock by Jules’ fingers, tap-dancing across his stomach. Charles pauses to watch, head cocked to one side, watching as Jean-Eric’s tongue darts out to lick curiously at Jules’ cock. Jules’ hand tightens again in Charles’ fur, enough for Charles to whimper, squirming to get free of the painful hold. Jules apologises with a gentle hand cupped around Charles’ cheek, then lies back and moans freely as the pair of them explore him with their tongues, purring deliberately against his cock because they know exactly what it does to him. It doesn’t take long. It never takes long, not when there’s two tongues licking over his cock, dipping down to explore his balls, constant vibration against the sensitive skin from the noises they’re making, and Jules cries out, arches up into their touch, feels the euphoria spreading through him.
It takes him a few minutes for him to come round, and he shudders violently when he manages to force his eyes open, because his kittens are playing together again, only this time, it’s not the innocent play of earlier, not with Jean-Eric repeating his actions on Charles, who’s lying there, completely overwhelmed, one paw pushing against Jules’ side, needing the contact. Jules reaches out, stroking his head, sitting up, still shivering slightly with the aftershocks. “Such a precious kitten,” Jules murmurs, reaching down, sliding his other hand underneath Charles. He knows Jean-Eric loves this, and he’s sure that Charles will too, so he carefully wraps his hand around Charles’ tail and tugs, gently, just enough to make Charles aware of it, of the plug tugging at his entrance, hard inside him, and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge, crying out louder than Jules has ever heard him before, curling over, pressing himself closer to both of them. Jean-Eric glances up at Jules as Charles gasps for breath, and Jules smirks. “Clean him up, kitten,” he commands, and Jean-Eric is quick to obey, quickly licking up Charles’ mess from his stomach.
They let Charles stay curled up touching them, coming down, needing the contact with him, and Jean-Eric lies obediently by Jules’ side, Jules’ hand around his cock, the other tugging at his tail, fingers tracing around his entrance, brushing over the sensitive skin behind his balls, and Jean-Eric is so worked up that it doesn’t even take minutes before he’s coming, spilling wet and hot over Jules’ fingers. “Good little kitten,” Jules murmurs, leaning over to whisper the words into Jean-Eric’s ear, smiles as Jean-Eric shudders again.
He lets them cuddle up to him again for a while, just to come down from it, before he makes them move. He loves seeing them come back to themselves again, curling fingers around his when he tugs their mittens off, sleepy happy noises as he carefully detangles the ear clips from their hair. The tail plugs get low moans, in Jean-Eric’s case, or an adorable squeak, in Charles’ case, when he slides them out of their loose, relaxed bodies, and the collars both gain low whimpers when he takes them off. The fantasy is over now, but they both still purr when he runs a warm, damp cloth over their bodies, cleaning them up of the various fluids they’ve ended up covered in. They’ll still be kitten-like for a while longer, cuddly and craving skin-on-skin contact, so Jules turns the lights completely off, slides under the duvet with them, and cuddles them close, enjoying them getting even more relaxed and sleepy. He likes them like this, not worked up about all the worries they have about their career, their future. And as Charles starts gently snoring and the fingers Jean-Eric has spread across his stomach stop their slowing circling motion, Jules lets himself drift off too.
For, and beta-d by ispun
Rating: black flag
Warning: animal/kitten play.
It’s a ritual, by now. Jules is gone, out somewhere, it doesn’t matter where. What matters is that Charles is staring at him, head tipped to one side as they kneel on the bathroom floor. He frowns, then lifts a hand up to move one of Jean-Eric’s ears a little to the left, then nods, obediently sits still so Jean-Eric can arrange his own, lifting a paw to bat at Jean-Eric’s hand when it tickles the back of his neck. Jean-Eric growls, gently, pounces at him, nuzzling at Charles’ tummy because he knows it tickles even more than the back of his neck. Charles squeaks, paws pushing at Jean-Eric’s shoulder as he squirms on the warm tiles. Jules has under-floor heating in the bathroom, and even though the whole house is warm, the heating deliberately turned up for them before Jules had left, they like it in here, settling into this, letting their brains stop running faster than their cars, as Jean-Eric stops teasing and yawns, nuzzling at Charles’ chest, lying there, perfectly comfortable even on the tile.
They snooze there for a while, relaxing into it, before Jean-Eric clambers over Charles, nudging their collars over towards Charles. Really, they should have done this straight after the ears, because now they have to let paws become hands again, just for a brief minute. But then they put their mittens on too, and it’s easier to tumble back into that wonderful, clear headspace, and Charles cocks his head to one head before he leaps at Jean-Eric, bell on his collar ringing merrily as he pounces.
They play for a little while, delighting in it, the way that all their worries fall away. It’s easier to sleep when they’re exhausted from playing, flopped on the fluffy rug in front of the fire, enjoying the warmth of the fire dancing over their bare skin, the feel of their bodies pressed together.
That’s how Jules finds them, when he returns, and he leans on the doorframe for a while, watching them sleep. Jean-Eric wakes as he’s putting the groceries away, winding around his legs, butting at his knees until Jules bends down to pet him, stroking his head and letting Jean-Eric nuzzle at his cheek in welcome. The heat of his nose is shocking against the cold of his cheek - autumn is strengthening its hold - and Jules pulls off his scarf, teasing Jean-Eric with it, jerking it across the floor and watching Jean-Eric watch it before he pounces on it.
He runs off with it, and Jules busies himself with finishing his task before he follows, laughing as he finds Charles sleepily fighting Jean-Eric for the scarf. “Stop it, you’ve got your own toys,” he chastises them, tugging his clothing back from them. Charles purrs, butting at his hand, begging for a scratch behind the ears that Jules is all too willing to give. “Come on, kitties,” he murmurs, leaves them sitting on the floor while he goes to hunt down their box of toys.
This is how Jean-Eric had known that Jules had taken the course of their relationship seriously, the fact that he’s bothered to go and find all these things. It had been little things, at first, a Halloween costume sparking the first interest, but then they’d realised how much Jean-Eric had needed the escape. And then Jules had done his research, and Jean-Eric had loved him for it, because Jules had been careful to only add something new when he knew that Jean-Eric needed it. Charles had been a sort of accidental addition. He’d watched, the first time, even more skittish than Jean-Eric was, and Jean-Eric had been truly skittish around him, hiding under the table in true kitten style. But he’d carefully reached out a hand for Jean-Eric to sniff at, and Jean-Eric had happily curled up in his lap instead of Jules’ for a while. He’d admitted he’d wanted that, after long, long discussions with Jean-Eric, ones Jules watched them have, curled up on the sofa while he cooked breakfast for all of them, the morning after. And then Charles has shyly asked for it too, and Jules had been unable to resist. And then he’d had two kittens curled up with him that evening, and Charles had taken some time to work out how to be a kitten, but they’d got there, in the end.
And now Jules thinks he’d ready for the next step. Charles is always more cautious of change than Jean-Eric is, even collaring him had been a huge step forwards, and it had taken Jules some serious work to build up the trust they’d needed. But it had been something Charles had needed, to wear his collar, to belong to Jules, to trust that Jules would take care of him. And Jules adores taking care of him, and Jean-Eric too, and that starts with keeping them happy, so he sits down on the floor with them, tugging string across the floor and watching them pounce after it, teasing them with it. But soon enough, they’re tired again, after all, they’re only kittens, and all this play is tiring. So Jules leaves them sleeping again, brushes kisses over their noses first and takes himself off for a shower, washing his own cares away because he needs to be the adult here, to let them not be, just for a few blissful hours.
And now it’s time for the next step, tonight, but that can wait because there’s half a game of football left to watch on the TV, and Jules settles down on the sofa in just his worn pyjama pants, patting the sofa until Charles leaps up to sprawl on one side of him and Jean-Eric settles on his other side, both of them purring as he pets them, running his fingers through soft fur, trailing fingers down their spines as they enjoy his touch.
Enjoying Jules’ touch soon become more than just enjoying it for the comfort alone. Charles is always the first to respond in that way, weak little whimper as he pushes into Jules’ touch, arching his back, squirming a little, almost rubbing his cock against the sofa. Jules reaches out with a flattened hand, smacks his arse. “Don’t dirty the sofa,” he warns, and Charles mewls, rolling onto his back, looking up at him with a pleading expression. “Don’t.” His cock is hardening against his stomach, and Jules swallows his moan. Jean-Eric stretches sleepily, reaches up to bat at Jules’ face, and gets a tummy rub in return, Jules deliberately dipping near to his cock, but nowhere near enough, and Jean-Eric turns a pleading expression very similar to Charles on him. “After I’ve watched this,” he promises them, bites back a groan as Charles squirms again, head pushing against his cock, and he knows Charles is doing it deliberately, so he reaches out again, palm coming down sharply against his side, because he’s learnt now how to discipline them, learnt that actions speak louder than words. “Behave. Now is not the time for that.”
Jean-Eric falls asleep again, while the football continues, but Charles squirms around, won’t settle, continues acting up, and Jules knows that he needs more of his time, so he leaves Jean-Eric curled up, tucks a blanket over him, and so he leads Charles into his bedroom, encourages him up onto the bed and just spends time petting him, having that time alone with him that Charles needs sometimes. Sometimes Charles just needs that reaffirmation of their relationship, to reaffirm that this is still ok, that they both still want this. “I bought a present for you,” Jules murmurs, letting Charles nuzzle his hand with his nose, cuddling him on his lap. “Hm? You like presents, don’t you? Pretty kitty. I always want to buy you presents. Although you like the wrapping paper more, don’t you?” He fights his way free of the cuddly kitten and hunts down the wrapped gift. (He’d only wrapped it because he knows how much Charles likes playing with the paper.)
Charles grows predictably irritated with the paper, and Jules can’t help but laugh. Charles growls, cute little kitten noise, and bites at the paper instead. He frowns at it when he finally gets it open with Jules’ help, crinkly paper trapped under a paw not even catching his attention. “You had to have your own, I’ve seen you looking at Jean-Eric’s. I’ve seen you wanting it,” Jules whispers, deliberately trailing his fingers down Charles’ spine. “Let me get you ready, kitten.” And Charles closes his eyes, arching his back into Jules’ touch, and lets Jules roll him onto his front, slide lube-slick fingers into him, stretching him carefully, sliding his new tail plug into him. It’s the first time Charles has had something other than a cock or fingers up his arse, and he nearly comes as Jules pushes it in as deep as it will go, except Jules tightens a hand around the base of his cock and watches as Charles mewls pitifully. “Not yet, kitten.”
He leaves him then, laid out on the bed and playing with his new tail while he wanders back into the living room. Jean-Eric is awake again, stretched out across the sofa because he can. Jules though, prefers him on the floor, standing there while Jules repeats the process. Jean-Eric turns delighted eyes on Jules afterwards, twitching slightly so the tail flicks a little from side-to-side. He paws at Jules’ pyjama pants, tugging them down a little. He manages to pull them down more with his teeth, and they catch on Jules’ cock, delicious friction that makes a moan escape unstopped.
And then he can’t take it slow, yanks them off so fast he nearly falls over and then chases Jean-Eric into the bedroom. They both freeze when Jules opens the door for Jean-Eric, breath catching in their throat as they catch sight of Charles.
Jules knows now, that this had been the right thing to do, to buy the tail for Charles. He’s worked himself into a knot, limbs twisted around his body, playing with his tail, mewing, hips jerking in an attempt to get friction from the air, not that it’s working. He freezes when he notices they’re there, blushing. Jules reaches down, rubbing at his cock. Jean-Eric jumps up onto the bed with him, nuzzles along Charles’ stomach, little licks all over as Charles wriggles, pushing up into the soft touch. “Come on boys, don’t leave me out,” Jules says, watches them both turn to look at him. He crawls onto the bed to join them, lets them part to let him lie between them. Jean-Eric, as always, is first to make a move, leans in to lick curiously at the growing pool of pre-come smeared across Jules’ stomach, purring, and Charles is quick to copy him, bumping heads with Jean-Eric. Jules moans underneath them, one hand rising to encourages Charles, always the shyer of the two kittens. “Come on, dirty little kitties,” he moans, hand tightening in Charles’ fur, the other grasping the sheets, hips rolling upwards towards them. Jean-Eric gives him a curious glance, and has to be tempted towards Jules’ cock by Jules’ fingers, tap-dancing across his stomach. Charles pauses to watch, head cocked to one side, watching as Jean-Eric’s tongue darts out to lick curiously at Jules’ cock. Jules’ hand tightens again in Charles’ fur, enough for Charles to whimper, squirming to get free of the painful hold. Jules apologises with a gentle hand cupped around Charles’ cheek, then lies back and moans freely as the pair of them explore him with their tongues, purring deliberately against his cock because they know exactly what it does to him. It doesn’t take long. It never takes long, not when there’s two tongues licking over his cock, dipping down to explore his balls, constant vibration against the sensitive skin from the noises they’re making, and Jules cries out, arches up into their touch, feels the euphoria spreading through him.
It takes him a few minutes for him to come round, and he shudders violently when he manages to force his eyes open, because his kittens are playing together again, only this time, it’s not the innocent play of earlier, not with Jean-Eric repeating his actions on Charles, who’s lying there, completely overwhelmed, one paw pushing against Jules’ side, needing the contact. Jules reaches out, stroking his head, sitting up, still shivering slightly with the aftershocks. “Such a precious kitten,” Jules murmurs, reaching down, sliding his other hand underneath Charles. He knows Jean-Eric loves this, and he’s sure that Charles will too, so he carefully wraps his hand around Charles’ tail and tugs, gently, just enough to make Charles aware of it, of the plug tugging at his entrance, hard inside him, and it’s enough to send him flying over the edge, crying out louder than Jules has ever heard him before, curling over, pressing himself closer to both of them. Jean-Eric glances up at Jules as Charles gasps for breath, and Jules smirks. “Clean him up, kitten,” he commands, and Jean-Eric is quick to obey, quickly licking up Charles’ mess from his stomach.
They let Charles stay curled up touching them, coming down, needing the contact with him, and Jean-Eric lies obediently by Jules’ side, Jules’ hand around his cock, the other tugging at his tail, fingers tracing around his entrance, brushing over the sensitive skin behind his balls, and Jean-Eric is so worked up that it doesn’t even take minutes before he’s coming, spilling wet and hot over Jules’ fingers. “Good little kitten,” Jules murmurs, leaning over to whisper the words into Jean-Eric’s ear, smiles as Jean-Eric shudders again.
He lets them cuddle up to him again for a while, just to come down from it, before he makes them move. He loves seeing them come back to themselves again, curling fingers around his when he tugs their mittens off, sleepy happy noises as he carefully detangles the ear clips from their hair. The tail plugs get low moans, in Jean-Eric’s case, or an adorable squeak, in Charles’ case, when he slides them out of their loose, relaxed bodies, and the collars both gain low whimpers when he takes them off. The fantasy is over now, but they both still purr when he runs a warm, damp cloth over their bodies, cleaning them up of the various fluids they’ve ended up covered in. They’ll still be kitten-like for a while longer, cuddly and craving skin-on-skin contact, so Jules turns the lights completely off, slides under the duvet with them, and cuddles them close, enjoying them getting even more relaxed and sleepy. He likes them like this, not worked up about all the worries they have about their career, their future. And as Charles starts gently snoring and the fingers Jean-Eric has spread across his stomach stop their slowing circling motion, Jules lets himself drift off too.