Close Encounter of the Purring Kind
Title: Close Encounter of the Purring Kind
Pairing: David Villa/err, "David Silva"
Rating: I guess R, just to avoid scarring any children for life.
Disclaimer: This is FICTION and I am not making a cent from it.
A/N: acchikocchi made me do it. Reposted by popular demand. I don't even. CRACK. Consider yourself warned.
The first time they have sex, Villa doesn't really place the strange noises Silva makes; they sound really strange, but he's busy and they're probably normal in a way that people just make sounds because they're enjoying themselves.
And Villa knows how to work it.
The second time, however, he notices Silva is licking his hand and wrist afterwards, in a creepy 'tidying' way.
"Want me to lick you clean?" he thinks he hears him mumble. Uhhh, this guy has some really interesting kinks, he thinks. Oh well. It seems harmless.
The third time, after Silva has introduced him to his arsenal of bendy skills, and afterwards starts to make strange kneading motions on the pillow, he can't hold it any longer and jokes: "Are you a cat?"
"Yes," says Silva, "do you mind?"
"No," says Villa, "it's kind of really kinky, but I mean, you're human, right? So it's not like we're doing furries or bestiality here. So all is fi--"
Silva stares at him in a way that silences all the molecules in his body.
"What?" says Villa.
"Want me to show you?"
"Duh," says Villa. This could be interesting after a---
"Meow." says the cat.
Villa lets out a horrified, strangled scream, while simultaneously crawling backwards until he reaches the edge of the bed, and he plops on the floor, taking the bedsheets with him.
The cat, startled, jumps from the bed in a huge leap backwards, landing on its four paws where Villa can't see it. It arches its back, flattens its ears; tail bushy like a brush.
Villa is panting. He doesn't want to see the cat. The cat needs to leave.
Now, and forever.
They each stay in their corners for a good five minutes, breathing, waiting, on Villa's part trying to collect himself.
"So are you going to throw me out?" asks the cat finally, timidly.
"Yes," says Villa, still not half recovered from the shock. "Yes, right now."
"No," says the cat, and dashes forward to escape the bedroom.
"You fucker!" Villa exclaims, forgetting they've agreed to be boyfriends just a few days back, or any human respect in general.
When he finally finds said boyfriend in the form of two glowing eyes under the sofa, he realized his plan is going to be faced with a massive delay.
He tries, "Here, kitty kitty," but Silva replies with "I have a name, you know."
"You can speak?" Villa's voice rises by approximately two octaves.
"I am an alien space cat."
Villa realizes that there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that one can retort to this confession when one's boyfriend has just literally turned into a cat and is now hiding under the sofa.
"Come on. Please, David."
"You're going to throw me out," Silva says, sounding very, very sad.
"You can't expect me to keep you around after that... that."
"I can stay under here."
"No, you can't."
After a while of unsuccessful discussion, Villa gets up to go to the kitchen. If only dirty tricks can help to get this horror movie to end, so be it.
He pulls the fresh tuna he was going to have for dinner from the fridge. As he looks up, Silva cat is sitting expectantly at his feet.
"Please?" he says, face pointy as a freshly sharpened pencil. "Please I can has fish?"
Villa's heart makes a tiny twanging sound of guilt.
"Please?" Silva's eyes are as large as saucers. "Meow?"
Villa places the tuna on the counter and swiftly grabs Silva's neck fur, picks him up and carries him outside.
"No." he says, and slams the door shut.
He makes it to the living room on wobbly legs, manages to pour himself a whiskey, and collapses on a chair.
He has not even a second to feel sorry for himself, when he hears the worst sound a human ear can possibly receive: The meow of a cat that wants you to feel guilty.
"Resist", he tells himself.
"Meoooow," cries Silva outside the door.
"No!" Villa yells. "Shut up!"
"Meoooooow, meooow."
The sound worms itself straight into Villa's heart. You're a horrible person, it says.
"Meooooow." You threw him out without even giving him a chance to explain himself.
"Meooow." You really felt you two had a connection, and now you throw him out like that.
"He lied to me about being a cat! A CAT!" Villa tells the living room furniture, slightly hysterical.
"Meoooooow." You deceived him with a piece of tuna!
"Stop it!" cries Villa in utmost frustration.
"Meoooooow, meoooow." The cat sounds like it has all the sads in the world.
Fine. "Fine," says Villa and gets up to open the door. "Fine, come in."
The cat rushes inside and rubs itself against Villa's legs, headbutting him and purring with the intensity of a thousand engines.
"I'm sorry, ok," it says.
Villa just makes an exasperated growly sound, and moves, impeded by cat walking in front of his feet, to the living room.
"Can you turn back into a human?" he asks, finally.
"Okay," says human Silva, squatting on the coffee table.
Villa draws a deep breath.
"Can I please stay with you?" asks Silva, dressed and sitting in a chair.
"I am not into bestiality," says Villa.
Silva looks at him, expressionless.
"Nevermind." says Villa.
"Please," says Silva, and makes a face that is eerily reminiscent of Puss in Boots from Shrek.
Now it is Villa's turn to stare at him.
"I won't even eat your tuna."
That is a huge sacrifice, Villa tells himself. The biggest sacrifice a cat could possibly make.
"I really thought we had something going."
"No turning into a cat in bed," Villa says. "That is my rule."
"Not even for cuddles?" asks Silva.
"Fine, okay, FINE, for cuddles."
"Second rule," he adds, after a thoughtful pause. "No licking your balls or asshole and then kissing me."
Silva stares at him.
"Wait, can you even lick your balls?"
Silva stares some more, then says, "As a cat."
There is a long, awkward silence in the room.
"And you share the tuna.", says Villa, finally.
Pairing: David Villa/err, "David Silva"
Rating: I guess R, just to avoid scarring any children for life.
Disclaimer: This is FICTION and I am not making a cent from it.
A/N: acchikocchi made me do it. Reposted by popular demand. I don't even. CRACK. Consider yourself warned.
The first time they have sex, Villa doesn't really place the strange noises Silva makes; they sound really strange, but he's busy and they're probably normal in a way that people just make sounds because they're enjoying themselves.
And Villa knows how to work it.
The second time, however, he notices Silva is licking his hand and wrist afterwards, in a creepy 'tidying' way.
"Want me to lick you clean?" he thinks he hears him mumble. Uhhh, this guy has some really interesting kinks, he thinks. Oh well. It seems harmless.
The third time, after Silva has introduced him to his arsenal of bendy skills, and afterwards starts to make strange kneading motions on the pillow, he can't hold it any longer and jokes: "Are you a cat?"
"Yes," says Silva, "do you mind?"
"No," says Villa, "it's kind of really kinky, but I mean, you're human, right? So it's not like we're doing furries or bestiality here. So all is fi--"
Silva stares at him in a way that silences all the molecules in his body.
"What?" says Villa.
"Want me to show you?"
"Duh," says Villa. This could be interesting after a---
"Meow." says the cat.
Villa lets out a horrified, strangled scream, while simultaneously crawling backwards until he reaches the edge of the bed, and he plops on the floor, taking the bedsheets with him.
The cat, startled, jumps from the bed in a huge leap backwards, landing on its four paws where Villa can't see it. It arches its back, flattens its ears; tail bushy like a brush.
Villa is panting. He doesn't want to see the cat. The cat needs to leave.
Now, and forever.
They each stay in their corners for a good five minutes, breathing, waiting, on Villa's part trying to collect himself.
"So are you going to throw me out?" asks the cat finally, timidly.
"Yes," says Villa, still not half recovered from the shock. "Yes, right now."
"No," says the cat, and dashes forward to escape the bedroom.
"You fucker!" Villa exclaims, forgetting they've agreed to be boyfriends just a few days back, or any human respect in general.
When he finally finds said boyfriend in the form of two glowing eyes under the sofa, he realized his plan is going to be faced with a massive delay.
He tries, "Here, kitty kitty," but Silva replies with "I have a name, you know."
"You can speak?" Villa's voice rises by approximately two octaves.
"I am an alien space cat."
Villa realizes that there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that one can retort to this confession when one's boyfriend has just literally turned into a cat and is now hiding under the sofa.
"Come on. Please, David."
"You're going to throw me out," Silva says, sounding very, very sad.
"You can't expect me to keep you around after that... that."
"I can stay under here."
"No, you can't."
After a while of unsuccessful discussion, Villa gets up to go to the kitchen. If only dirty tricks can help to get this horror movie to end, so be it.
He pulls the fresh tuna he was going to have for dinner from the fridge. As he looks up, Silva cat is sitting expectantly at his feet.
"Please?" he says, face pointy as a freshly sharpened pencil. "Please I can has fish?"
Villa's heart makes a tiny twanging sound of guilt.
"Please?" Silva's eyes are as large as saucers. "Meow?"
Villa places the tuna on the counter and swiftly grabs Silva's neck fur, picks him up and carries him outside.
"No." he says, and slams the door shut.
He makes it to the living room on wobbly legs, manages to pour himself a whiskey, and collapses on a chair.
He has not even a second to feel sorry for himself, when he hears the worst sound a human ear can possibly receive: The meow of a cat that wants you to feel guilty.
"Resist", he tells himself.
"Meoooow," cries Silva outside the door.
"No!" Villa yells. "Shut up!"
"Meoooooow, meooow."
The sound worms itself straight into Villa's heart. You're a horrible person, it says.
"Meooooow." You threw him out without even giving him a chance to explain himself.
"Meooow." You really felt you two had a connection, and now you throw him out like that.
"He lied to me about being a cat! A CAT!" Villa tells the living room furniture, slightly hysterical.
"Meoooooow." You deceived him with a piece of tuna!
"Stop it!" cries Villa in utmost frustration.
"Meoooooow, meoooow." The cat sounds like it has all the sads in the world.
Fine. "Fine," says Villa and gets up to open the door. "Fine, come in."
The cat rushes inside and rubs itself against Villa's legs, headbutting him and purring with the intensity of a thousand engines.
"I'm sorry, ok," it says.
Villa just makes an exasperated growly sound, and moves, impeded by cat walking in front of his feet, to the living room.
"Can you turn back into a human?" he asks, finally.
"Okay," says human Silva, squatting on the coffee table.
Villa draws a deep breath.
"Can I please stay with you?" asks Silva, dressed and sitting in a chair.
"I am not into bestiality," says Villa.
Silva looks at him, expressionless.
"Nevermind." says Villa.
"Please," says Silva, and makes a face that is eerily reminiscent of Puss in Boots from Shrek.
Now it is Villa's turn to stare at him.
"I won't even eat your tuna."
That is a huge sacrifice, Villa tells himself. The biggest sacrifice a cat could possibly make.
"I really thought we had something going."
"No turning into a cat in bed," Villa says. "That is my rule."
"Not even for cuddles?" asks Silva.
"Fine, okay, FINE, for cuddles."
"Second rule," he adds, after a thoughtful pause. "No licking your balls or asshole and then kissing me."
Silva stares at him.
"Wait, can you even lick your balls?"
Silva stares some more, then says, "As a cat."
There is a long, awkward silence in the room.
"And you share the tuna.", says Villa, finally.