Kitten
I finally wrote a kink meme fill again! I hope this means my inspiration won't dry up again, but you never really know with these things. So here's a short fill for a prompt submitted back when the Entity was defeated. It's sort of hurt/comfort for Linkara being affected by being the last person on Earth and the others dealing with his new habits. It's mostly focused on Linkara and Harvey, and I think it comes off a bit slashy, though it's not meant to be slash, just comfort. So anyway, I hope you enjoy.
If Harvey were pressed to compare Linkara to something (as rare an occasion as him being pressed to do anything was), he’d have chosen a creature fitting the kid’s many admirable attributes. The fierce lion. The cunning fox. The wizened owl. There were numerous choices to describe their leader and self-appointed protector, and Harvey could spend a week alone making his selection.
Only Harvey was starting to imagine a different sort of animal when he saw the kid as of late. When he looked at Linkara now, his mind was flooded with images of a helpless kitten.
Ever since he’d defeated that Entity-whatsit, something had been off with Linkara. His eyes now carried this haunted expression; when he moved, he seemed smaller and more fragile somehow. Harvey didn’t know what had gone down exactly when the kid had been left to fend for himself as the last inhabitant of Earth, but it had hurt Linkara badly, even if the scars weren’t visible.
Linkara had developed a few… let’s say peculiar new habits ever since their return. The first was his tendency to follow people whenever they left the room. Well, to be specific, whenever they left him alone in a room.
It would have been funny if it weren’t so sad. Linkara would jump up from even the most comfortable of positions if it meant he wouldn’t be sitting by himself. He trotted along after others when they did laundry, sat eagerly at the table when they paid bills, and even followed them outside into the chilly night air without a jacket.
“It was getting too stuffy in there anyway,” Linkara would declare, despite rubbing his arms in an obvious attempt to keep warm. Harvey would merely nod and take another drag of his cigarette without commenting, even though the truth was painfully clear to him.
The kid could no longer bear solitude. Even a few minutes by himself was enough to have him tearing at his hair. They’d learned this the hard way, after trying to convince Linkara to take a day off and get some rest in a quiet house absent of any distractions, specifically the team.
“Why would I want a day off?” he had asked, almost angrily. “Does evil ever just take a day off? No, of course not! That’s why I need you guys here! At least one of you should always be here in case of emergencies!” Linkara’s hands had clenched into fists tight enough to turn his knuckles white as he spoke and several of the others had backed away from him, startled by his outburst. “S-so don’t even think about leaving!”
“Kid, calm down. It was just a suggestion. Nobody’s leaving if you don’t want them to.”
It took a few more minutes of reassurance, but Linkara was eventually calmed by Harvey’s words and nodded.
“Okay then. I’m glad we all understand.” Boffo and Linksano shared a look expressing a mutual lack of understanding, before Linkara wrapped his arms around both of them. “So, who’s up for a game of Twister?”
This was another of Linkara’s new habits. He had always been a friendly guy, ready to offer a pat on the back or a shoulder to lean on should you need it. However, he’d become even more hands-on since the team’s return. Hands-on referring to how he couldn’t seem to stop touching people no matter what they did.
It was a gradual habit, starting with Linkara’s tendency to touch the arm of whomever he was speaking too, or playfully grab their hand before releasing it and smiling playfully. This moved on to insistent offers to rub stiff shoulders or to constantly practice new close-combat fighting techniques. Eventually Linkara started giving daily hugs to his teammates. Whenever someone returned from picking up a quart of milk or making a trip to the arcade, Linkara would find and embrace them, welcoming them back and eagerly chattering away about how they were feeling.
“Uh, j-just awesome, dude,” 90s Kid usually stammered out in between blushing and trying to shake the other man off. They weren’t overly upset by Linkara’s sudden outburst of affections, just perplexed about how to react (and slightly embarrassed, of course).
This fondness for proximity culminated in Linkara’s desire to sit very close to the others; no, not just close, practically on top of them. You’d start out the night sitting on opposite ends of the couch watching a flick, and before you’d finished your popcorn, the kid would be pressed so close to your side you couldn’t even scratch your chin without accidentally elbowing him in the ribs.
One night, Harvey’d come home to the sight of Linkara dozing on the futon with his head resting comfortably in Ninja-Style Dancer’s lap.
*He wanted some company this evening. I didn’t realize he was so tired. I’d like to leave, but it doesn’t seem right to wake him.* The ninja held up on a card as an explanation. Even behind his mask a luminescent blush was visible, but Harvey chose not to comment and went on minding his own business. He too had fallen victim to the kid’s unpredictable sleep habits, though he was fortunate enough to keep those moments private.
Harvey wished he knew what to do. He was a man of action, but what bothered the kid went so much deeper than anything that could be solved with fists and guns. Linkara had never been this touchy-feely before. Now he couldn’t go one day without touching someone. He needed to feel closeness with others, he craved it even. On his worst days, the kid would nuzzle and snuggle against anyone whenever he had the chance, clinging to them tightly, even muttering under his breath at times, “Don’t leave, don’t leave me again, don’t go. Please, please don’t leave me.”
When times such as these came, Harvey would take the kid upstairs and tuck him into bed. After making sure Bear was nestled against Linkara’s cheek, he’d stroke his hair and softly murmur, “It’s all right, kid. We’re here to stay. You won’t be alone again.”
Harvey wouldn’t stop until Linkara pulled him down close and nuzzled his cheek in thanks. Only then could the kid finally close his eyes and begin to relax, if even for just a moment.
Though he wished to help Linkara more than anything, Harvey had to admit he didn’t mind taking care of the kid on his worst days. In time, the brave Linkara of old would return; for now, Harvey would gladly protect and soothe his kitten.
If Harvey were pressed to compare Linkara to something (as rare an occasion as him being pressed to do anything was), he’d have chosen a creature fitting the kid’s many admirable attributes. The fierce lion. The cunning fox. The wizened owl. There were numerous choices to describe their leader and self-appointed protector, and Harvey could spend a week alone making his selection.
Only Harvey was starting to imagine a different sort of animal when he saw the kid as of late. When he looked at Linkara now, his mind was flooded with images of a helpless kitten.
Ever since he’d defeated that Entity-whatsit, something had been off with Linkara. His eyes now carried this haunted expression; when he moved, he seemed smaller and more fragile somehow. Harvey didn’t know what had gone down exactly when the kid had been left to fend for himself as the last inhabitant of Earth, but it had hurt Linkara badly, even if the scars weren’t visible.
Linkara had developed a few… let’s say peculiar new habits ever since their return. The first was his tendency to follow people whenever they left the room. Well, to be specific, whenever they left him alone in a room.
It would have been funny if it weren’t so sad. Linkara would jump up from even the most comfortable of positions if it meant he wouldn’t be sitting by himself. He trotted along after others when they did laundry, sat eagerly at the table when they paid bills, and even followed them outside into the chilly night air without a jacket.
“It was getting too stuffy in there anyway,” Linkara would declare, despite rubbing his arms in an obvious attempt to keep warm. Harvey would merely nod and take another drag of his cigarette without commenting, even though the truth was painfully clear to him.
The kid could no longer bear solitude. Even a few minutes by himself was enough to have him tearing at his hair. They’d learned this the hard way, after trying to convince Linkara to take a day off and get some rest in a quiet house absent of any distractions, specifically the team.
“Why would I want a day off?” he had asked, almost angrily. “Does evil ever just take a day off? No, of course not! That’s why I need you guys here! At least one of you should always be here in case of emergencies!” Linkara’s hands had clenched into fists tight enough to turn his knuckles white as he spoke and several of the others had backed away from him, startled by his outburst. “S-so don’t even think about leaving!”
“Kid, calm down. It was just a suggestion. Nobody’s leaving if you don’t want them to.”
It took a few more minutes of reassurance, but Linkara was eventually calmed by Harvey’s words and nodded.
“Okay then. I’m glad we all understand.” Boffo and Linksano shared a look expressing a mutual lack of understanding, before Linkara wrapped his arms around both of them. “So, who’s up for a game of Twister?”
This was another of Linkara’s new habits. He had always been a friendly guy, ready to offer a pat on the back or a shoulder to lean on should you need it. However, he’d become even more hands-on since the team’s return. Hands-on referring to how he couldn’t seem to stop touching people no matter what they did.
It was a gradual habit, starting with Linkara’s tendency to touch the arm of whomever he was speaking too, or playfully grab their hand before releasing it and smiling playfully. This moved on to insistent offers to rub stiff shoulders or to constantly practice new close-combat fighting techniques. Eventually Linkara started giving daily hugs to his teammates. Whenever someone returned from picking up a quart of milk or making a trip to the arcade, Linkara would find and embrace them, welcoming them back and eagerly chattering away about how they were feeling.
“Uh, j-just awesome, dude,” 90s Kid usually stammered out in between blushing and trying to shake the other man off. They weren’t overly upset by Linkara’s sudden outburst of affections, just perplexed about how to react (and slightly embarrassed, of course).
This fondness for proximity culminated in Linkara’s desire to sit very close to the others; no, not just close, practically on top of them. You’d start out the night sitting on opposite ends of the couch watching a flick, and before you’d finished your popcorn, the kid would be pressed so close to your side you couldn’t even scratch your chin without accidentally elbowing him in the ribs.
One night, Harvey’d come home to the sight of Linkara dozing on the futon with his head resting comfortably in Ninja-Style Dancer’s lap.
*He wanted some company this evening. I didn’t realize he was so tired. I’d like to leave, but it doesn’t seem right to wake him.* The ninja held up on a card as an explanation. Even behind his mask a luminescent blush was visible, but Harvey chose not to comment and went on minding his own business. He too had fallen victim to the kid’s unpredictable sleep habits, though he was fortunate enough to keep those moments private.
Harvey wished he knew what to do. He was a man of action, but what bothered the kid went so much deeper than anything that could be solved with fists and guns. Linkara had never been this touchy-feely before. Now he couldn’t go one day without touching someone. He needed to feel closeness with others, he craved it even. On his worst days, the kid would nuzzle and snuggle against anyone whenever he had the chance, clinging to them tightly, even muttering under his breath at times, “Don’t leave, don’t leave me again, don’t go. Please, please don’t leave me.”
When times such as these came, Harvey would take the kid upstairs and tuck him into bed. After making sure Bear was nestled against Linkara’s cheek, he’d stroke his hair and softly murmur, “It’s all right, kid. We’re here to stay. You won’t be alone again.”
Harvey wouldn’t stop until Linkara pulled him down close and nuzzled his cheek in thanks. Only then could the kid finally close his eyes and begin to relax, if even for just a moment.
Though he wished to help Linkara more than anything, Harvey had to admit he didn’t mind taking care of the kid on his worst days. In time, the brave Linkara of old would return; for now, Harvey would gladly protect and soothe his kitten.