[fic] Everybody Wants to be a Cat
Title: Everybody Wants to be a Cat
Author: etre_sans_age
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Greece/France
Warnings: smut, kitty!France
Wordcount: 1,141
Author's Notes: written for February 22, which is apparently Cat Day in Japan. Although I had this idea before I realized today was Cat Day and just coincidentally finished it on time. B-because France and Greece run around as naked cat-dudes in the comics... It made sense to me. Yeah, I kinda hate myself.
It was too early to have to face the waking world and all the problems that accompany consciousness. He wanted only to continue sleeping, but just thinking about waking up was forcing him out of that peaceful black oblivion. Eyes still closed, Greece breathed in deeply, letting his senses take in his surroundings, scent and sound and sensation.
A whiff of almost familiar musk, tempered by the smell of slightly damp hair. The sound of steady breathing, the occasional rustle of sheets as a warm body pressed close against his abdomen. The fine hairs on bare skin, the slightest hint of goosebumps underneath where the blankets had slipped away. At last, Greece opened his eyes, somehow not surprised to discover that it was France sleeping in his bed, tousle-haired and naked, as if from a shower.
Greece let his fingers trail over the ridges of his ribs, down the curve of the hipbone, and then across to the cat tail that draped across lean thighs. Curiously, he stroked the short blond fur, and then scratched at the base of the other nation’s spine where the tail joined the rest of the body, causing France to purr and arch his back contentedly. It was unusual to hear a human throat make such a cat-like sound, but perhaps not so unexpected of someone like France. “Unusual” would not even begin to describe how special France was.
He paused to nuzzle at the back of France’s neck, watching the cat ears flick slightly in response, listening to the low purring grow even deeper as France clutched and kneaded at the sheets. So cute, Greece thought in mild surprise, and somewhere a part of his mind balked at trying to process this incongruent observation. But even if it was France, to whom the word “cute” had not applied for several centuries, he was sleeping and warm and comfortable. And Greece had to admit, he could use the company.
“Gallia…” he murmured into France’s ear. He did not follow that with petty questions any other person would have asked, such as “How the hell did you get into my house, you raging pervert?” France stirred at the voice and then turned over to lie on his back with a sigh. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open, and he gazed at the other nation through half-closed eyes, thin rings of sapphire around liquid black pupils. Without a word, Greece raised himself on an elbow, the other hand reaching down to clutch at the slender waist as he curled over the prone nation in order to kiss him. Uttering the softest mew, France happily returned the lazy kiss, slipping his tongue in between Greece’s lips and then nipping at the tongue intruding into his own mouth with sharp teeth. Greece pressed his body down, sliding a leg in between France’s thighs until they were nearly skin to skin. But habit overcame any intentions he might have had, and his fingers drifted down to lightly scratch at the other’s stomach, causing France to chuckle and squirm underneath him.
They kissed at a luxurious pace, the wet smack of lips and tongue and a hint of teeth, taking their time basking in the Mediterranean sun, grey and watery after a rainy night. With a regretful sigh, Greece eventually pulled away, though France had wrapped his arms around his shoulders and still licked and nuzzled at his throat even as he reached for the lubricant nearby. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to get his fingers slicked and then leaned back enough to comfortably press his fingers up between the other nation’s legs, to breach the tight ring of muscle. France took a shuddering breath and pushed back down on his fingers, and so he obliged, exploring and stroking until the sudden convulsing, another cat-like sound, signified that he hit the right spot.
Ever so gently, Greece wrapped a forearm around one of France’s legs, hoisting it up over his shoulder and guiding him to his side. He pressed the tip of his now aching, dripping length to the waiting hole, watching with amusement as the tail lashed and quivered in pleasure, and pushed in using one smooth motion. A barely audible hiss escaped his lips, and Greece had to adjust to the searing tightness enveloping his cock before he could resume his unhurried rhythm.
For the next several moments, there was only the sound of flesh hitting flesh, breaths ever labored, the occasional pleased whimper or gasp whenever Greece’s cock brushed against him just so. Releasing France so he could lay on his stomach again, Greece continued thrusting into him, faster and less gently, planting one hand against the mattress while the other curled underneath and joined France’s slender fingers already stroking away at his erection while he ground against the damp sheets. Only a little while later, France tensed and cried out, a loud yowl of ecstasy as he came over their hands, and Greece followed soon afterward, spending himself inside of the other, growling out the dizzying orgasm that overcame his senses.
They collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for breath, their bodies still joined and trembling uncontrollably from the aftershocks racing through their nerves. As soon as he felt that it was safe to move, Greece rolled off of France, ruefully straightening out the kink in the blond tail with his one clean hand. France glared at him through the slit eyes, but his expression was of pure satiety, and did not begrudge Greece yet another drowsy kiss. The two curled up in each other’s arms afterwards, too exhausted to do much else.
After a few minutes, France cleared his throat and whispered in that dark, velvety voice, “You really should come to Paris next time.”
Greece considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “But the dogs try to chase me when I visit.”
France pouted, the tip of his tail twitching slightly in annoyance. “I could make it worth your while, Grèce.”
Greece closed his eyes, recalling the stray cat he brought in from the rain last night, a ragged soaked bundle of yellow fur and bright blue eyes, knowing that it went through a lot of trouble to get to Athens, but his thoughts soon turned to a more pressing matter, in every sense of the word. “Can we do it again?” he asked.
“…What?”
“We don’t know when you are going to turn back into a human, so…”
“Mon dieu…” France murmured in astonishment, but Greece was already petting his ears, and his body responded instinctively to such genuine affection, and by the time they finished, he forgot exactly how he planned to lure the Mediterranean nation to Paris next year. But he did not mind so much, for he had Greece’s undivided attention for the day and that was more than worth it.
Author: etre_sans_age
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Greece/France
Warnings: smut, kitty!France
Wordcount: 1,141
Author's Notes: written for February 22, which is apparently Cat Day in Japan. Although I had this idea before I realized today was Cat Day and just coincidentally finished it on time. B-because France and Greece run around as naked cat-dudes in the comics... It made sense to me. Yeah, I kinda hate myself.
It was too early to have to face the waking world and all the problems that accompany consciousness. He wanted only to continue sleeping, but just thinking about waking up was forcing him out of that peaceful black oblivion. Eyes still closed, Greece breathed in deeply, letting his senses take in his surroundings, scent and sound and sensation.
A whiff of almost familiar musk, tempered by the smell of slightly damp hair. The sound of steady breathing, the occasional rustle of sheets as a warm body pressed close against his abdomen. The fine hairs on bare skin, the slightest hint of goosebumps underneath where the blankets had slipped away. At last, Greece opened his eyes, somehow not surprised to discover that it was France sleeping in his bed, tousle-haired and naked, as if from a shower.
Greece let his fingers trail over the ridges of his ribs, down the curve of the hipbone, and then across to the cat tail that draped across lean thighs. Curiously, he stroked the short blond fur, and then scratched at the base of the other nation’s spine where the tail joined the rest of the body, causing France to purr and arch his back contentedly. It was unusual to hear a human throat make such a cat-like sound, but perhaps not so unexpected of someone like France. “Unusual” would not even begin to describe how special France was.
He paused to nuzzle at the back of France’s neck, watching the cat ears flick slightly in response, listening to the low purring grow even deeper as France clutched and kneaded at the sheets. So cute, Greece thought in mild surprise, and somewhere a part of his mind balked at trying to process this incongruent observation. But even if it was France, to whom the word “cute” had not applied for several centuries, he was sleeping and warm and comfortable. And Greece had to admit, he could use the company.
“Gallia…” he murmured into France’s ear. He did not follow that with petty questions any other person would have asked, such as “How the hell did you get into my house, you raging pervert?” France stirred at the voice and then turned over to lie on his back with a sigh. Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open, and he gazed at the other nation through half-closed eyes, thin rings of sapphire around liquid black pupils. Without a word, Greece raised himself on an elbow, the other hand reaching down to clutch at the slender waist as he curled over the prone nation in order to kiss him. Uttering the softest mew, France happily returned the lazy kiss, slipping his tongue in between Greece’s lips and then nipping at the tongue intruding into his own mouth with sharp teeth. Greece pressed his body down, sliding a leg in between France’s thighs until they were nearly skin to skin. But habit overcame any intentions he might have had, and his fingers drifted down to lightly scratch at the other’s stomach, causing France to chuckle and squirm underneath him.
They kissed at a luxurious pace, the wet smack of lips and tongue and a hint of teeth, taking their time basking in the Mediterranean sun, grey and watery after a rainy night. With a regretful sigh, Greece eventually pulled away, though France had wrapped his arms around his shoulders and still licked and nuzzled at his throat even as he reached for the lubricant nearby. It took some maneuvering, but he managed to get his fingers slicked and then leaned back enough to comfortably press his fingers up between the other nation’s legs, to breach the tight ring of muscle. France took a shuddering breath and pushed back down on his fingers, and so he obliged, exploring and stroking until the sudden convulsing, another cat-like sound, signified that he hit the right spot.
Ever so gently, Greece wrapped a forearm around one of France’s legs, hoisting it up over his shoulder and guiding him to his side. He pressed the tip of his now aching, dripping length to the waiting hole, watching with amusement as the tail lashed and quivered in pleasure, and pushed in using one smooth motion. A barely audible hiss escaped his lips, and Greece had to adjust to the searing tightness enveloping his cock before he could resume his unhurried rhythm.
For the next several moments, there was only the sound of flesh hitting flesh, breaths ever labored, the occasional pleased whimper or gasp whenever Greece’s cock brushed against him just so. Releasing France so he could lay on his stomach again, Greece continued thrusting into him, faster and less gently, planting one hand against the mattress while the other curled underneath and joined France’s slender fingers already stroking away at his erection while he ground against the damp sheets. Only a little while later, France tensed and cried out, a loud yowl of ecstasy as he came over their hands, and Greece followed soon afterward, spending himself inside of the other, growling out the dizzying orgasm that overcame his senses.
They collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for breath, their bodies still joined and trembling uncontrollably from the aftershocks racing through their nerves. As soon as he felt that it was safe to move, Greece rolled off of France, ruefully straightening out the kink in the blond tail with his one clean hand. France glared at him through the slit eyes, but his expression was of pure satiety, and did not begrudge Greece yet another drowsy kiss. The two curled up in each other’s arms afterwards, too exhausted to do much else.
After a few minutes, France cleared his throat and whispered in that dark, velvety voice, “You really should come to Paris next time.”
Greece considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “But the dogs try to chase me when I visit.”
France pouted, the tip of his tail twitching slightly in annoyance. “I could make it worth your while, Grèce.”
Greece closed his eyes, recalling the stray cat he brought in from the rain last night, a ragged soaked bundle of yellow fur and bright blue eyes, knowing that it went through a lot of trouble to get to Athens, but his thoughts soon turned to a more pressing matter, in every sense of the word. “Can we do it again?” he asked.
“…What?”
“We don’t know when you are going to turn back into a human, so…”
“Mon dieu…” France murmured in astonishment, but Greece was already petting his ears, and his body responded instinctively to such genuine affection, and by the time they finished, he forgot exactly how he planned to lure the Mediterranean nation to Paris next year. But he did not mind so much, for he had Greece’s undivided attention for the day and that was more than worth it.