Through the Eyes of a Kitten 3/4
Title: Through the Eyes of a Kitten 3/4
Author: tastykaromel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously, even the computer this was written on belongs to my boyfriend.
Summary: Through strange and bizarre means that the author is too lazy to fully explain, Kurt gets turned into a kitten. Yeah, you read that right.
A/N: *shy wave* Hey, everybody, I’m finally back with another humble chapter. I’ve learned a lot about myself since I’ve started writing this story. Like apparently I’m one of those authors who do a couple chapters and get loads of awesome support and comments from everybody and even a few friends and then disappears off the face of the planet when faced with writer’s block. Also, it’s a good idea to have your story at least semi-plotted out before you start in order to help prevent said writer’s block. Finally, I’ve learned that if you lose the juice for a story for a while (or, you know, four months!) you can find it again with the proper motivation (like signing up for the piratebigbang and getting a really good story idea and realizing that you should probably finish your last story before you start a new one). Anyway, I apologize tremendously for the wait. Here is the new chapter, there will be one more that I hope to have up within the week and then a short, little epilogue. Enjoy!
It took a few minutes, but eventually Kurt was able to drag himself away from his mortification for long enough to remember that Karofsky had finally left him alone and if he was going to get a chance to escape, this would be it.
However, when Kurt made it to the edge of the bed and saw what an awfully long way down it was he decided he might be better off just chilling on the bed. Not because he was scared of the jump or anything, that would be ridiculous. No, he just decided that his best option would be to stay where he was.
After all, if Karofsky hadn’t tried to pull out his whiskers or tie cans to his tail or something else befitting the bully’s MO yet, then chances were he probably wasn’t going to. Besides, Kurt reasoned, where would he even go once he got off the bed? Karofsky had closed the door behind him and even if Kurt could get out, he had no idea where Karofsky lived. He would be just another of Lima’s strays, wandering aimlessly through the streets and would probably end up getting run over by a car.
Kurt lay back down on the bed, curling in on himself and sniffing piteously at his supposed fate. No, the best thing to do right now was stay with Karofsky until this situation fixed itself. Kurt didn’t have the smallest clue how he could do anything so he had to hope that the spell or curse or whatever came with a time limit.
Kurt tried to recall everything the gypsy lady had said, hoping a hint might pop out of her cryptic words. Kurt remembered they’d been talking about his true love and Kurt hadn’t really believed her and then she said, “You can’t see it now, but you will.” And then Kurt had heard the words again in the bathroom right before he’d been turned into a kitten.
So that had to be important somehow, but Kurt couldn’t see how it would help him get back to normal. Did Kurt have to see something in order to change back? That would make sense, but what was he supposed to see? Whatever it was, Kurt was willing to bet that Karofsky’s dirty laundry wasn’t it. And that was all Kurt could see; just stray clothes and hockey posters and, oh hey, Karofsky was back.
Kurt scrambled to his feet to see what Karofsky had brought back. He wasn’t able to get a good look however before Karofsky knelt down on the floor out of Kurt sight. Kurt moved to the edge of the bed but he still couldn’t see anything around Karofsky’s broad back. He gave a yowl of annoyance at being ignored and Karofsky turned his head Kurt’s way.
“What’s the matter, buddy? Can’t you get off the bed?” Karofsky asked with a teasing grin. Kurt huffed and eyed the floor again. Ok, technically, Kurt knew that that cat’s always landed on their feet, but he could still remember the shock of pain that had shot through his bones when Sylvester had thrown him and he had no interest in experiencing it again.
So instead Kurt mewed piteously, appealing to this unlikely fondness Karofsky appeared to have for pitiful things. Not that Kurt was pitiful, but if he needed to play the part to get Karofsky to do his bidding, well, let it never be said that Kurt Hummel didn’t know how to act.
Sure enough, Karofsky played right into his hand, er, paw; standing up and moving towards the bed, his teasing grin softening into a fond one. He picked Kurt up gently and Kurt allowed a purr to escape as Karofsky petted him, paying particular attention to the sensitive spot behind his ears and under his chin.
Kurt should have known it was a trap.
Karofsky sat him down in a tray that was filled with small, gray, pebbly things that were difficult to stand on. Kurt couldn’t figure out what it was until Karofsky said, “Come on buddy, you got to get used to going here. Dad will flip his shit if you have an accident on the new carpet.”
Oh. Hell. To. The. No.
Kurt fled from what he now realized was a litter box. He made it halfway to the bed before Karofsky snatched him up.
“No, we’ll play after you go potty,” Karofsky said Kurt yowled in objection, but of course the jock chose this issue to be firm on. “Just go potty and then I’ll get you something to eat.”
Kurt sat his little bottom down and sulked. There was no way he was going to the bathroom in a litter box and he absolutely wasn’t going while Karofsky was watching him. The worst part was that now that the subject had been brought up, Kurt realized that he actually did have to go really bad.
He meowed imploringly. If Karofsky just went away for a few minutes he could maybe handle the indignity of using a litter box. Amazingly, it seemed like Karofsky was some sort of cat whisperer because he said, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling shy?”
Kurt meowed several times in quick succession, hoping Karofsky would get the hint.
“Geeze, you’re prissy,” Karofsky said, pushing the litter box into the closet and behind the door. Kurt wanted to be affronted about the prissy comment, but he was too happy that he’s actually been able to communicate with the jock. He spent a minute or so scratching at the litter to psych himself up. Finally, he had to just squat down and let nature take over.
Feeling unexpectedly proud of himself, Kurt walked back out with his head held high. Then Karofsky was scooping him up and praising him for pissing in the closet.
Yeah, that was weird.
But Kurt tolerated Karofsky’s cooing if only because he knew food was coming. The boy settled on the bed with Kurt in his lap. He opened a tubberware container, releasing a waft of…oohh, that was tuna.
Kurt had never been a big fan of tuna; but suddenly it seemed like the most delicious thing ever, even better then the barbeque earlier. Karofsky set the container down in front of him and Kurt forgot himself a little bit, diving in head first and scarfing it down. Karofsky chuckled behind him and ran a hand down his back, saying, “Easy, easy, it’s not going to sprout legs and run off on you.”
Kurt tried to slow down, really he did, but every instinct in him was saying to keep chugging away until it was all gone and there was nothing left to do except lick the bottom of tub in hopes of more appearing. Karofsky pulled it away and rubbed the underside of Kurt’s neck, “Wow, you were hungry, weren’t you? Wait here and I’ll go get you some water.”
He set Kurt on the floor and went into the adjacent bathroom. Kurt could see him washing the container and he came back with it full to the brim with clear water. Kurt managed to be a little neater lapping up the water and when he was done he sat back feeling full and satisfied. The only thing that Kurt thought would make the moment better would be if Karofsky came and scratched him behind the ears.
Only the jock seemed to have chosen that moment to stop his hovering. He was flipping through his shelf of DVDs and ignoring Kurt completely. Kurt huffed at the nerve and stalked over to remind Karofsky of his priorities. Any other cat would have rubbed against the boy’s ankles, but Kurt preferred the more direct approach.
He sat down on Karofsky’s left foot.
The idiot just looked down at him with that doopy grin and said, “Want to watch a movie with me, buddy?” before slipping his foot out from under Kurt’s bottom and moving to the TV without any petting, at all. Of course, Kurt couldn’t scowl, but it would have been useful right now. If Karofsky was going to go against character and be strangely sweet and attentive, then he should be that way all the time instead of showering Kurt with affection and then just going off to watch a movie.
The jerk had started the DVD by the time Kurt was finished with his indignant, internal fury and was now laying down on his bed. The movie was clearly something lame with lots of mindless shooting and explosions and Karofsky’s time would be much better spent paying attention to Kurt, he just needed to be reminded of that fact.
Kurt yowled yet again, if he wasn’t careful he was going to strain his vocal chords. All that got him was Karofsky leaning over the side of the bed to say, “Don’t give me that, if you want on the bed you’re going to have to get up here yourself.” Kurt yowled in protest, trying to put as much accusation as possible into it.
“No, you’ve got to learn to take care of yourself. You’re going to the shelter tomorrow and I won’t be there to help you with every little thing.” Karofsky patted the blankets beside him. “Come on, it’s not that high, you can do it.”
Kurt huffed, but he backed up, judging the distance. He made a running leap for the edge of the bed and made it, literally, by the tips of his claws. He scrambled the rest of the way up, a bit undignified, but proud of his accomplishment. Karofsky was too apparently, giving him lots of praises and multiple kisses over his face and ears. Kurt was surprised by how comfortable that was, still a little embarrassing of course, but nice.
Kurt tried to distract himself from the strange feelings by focusing on the movie and was pleased to see that it was X-Men Origins: Wolverine. It was a testosterone infused action flick, but it had hunky Hugh Jackman in it who showed off his muscles a lot.
Kurt purred in approval.
Karofsky chuckled and said, “Does this meet with your approval? Can you keep a secret precious? I think Wolverine is kind of hot.”
Kurt mewed in shock, whipping his head around to stare at Karofsky with wide eyes. Had the jock really just come out to him? Karofsky looked a little shell-shocked himself and he took a few deep breaths before saying, “Wow, that’s the first time I’ve said that out loud.”
Kurt laid a paw on Karofsky’s forearm and for the first time wished he was in human form, not so that he could get away from the jock, but so that he could pull him closer. Karofsky responded with a smile that was only a little bit shaky and laid back against the headboard, saying, “Ok, that wasn’t so bad, now if only I could tell someone who might actually respond,” as he placed Kurt on top of him.
“You know Kurt probably thinks Wolverine is hot too. Clearly he likes men all ripped and shit.” Kurt was so surprised to finally hear his real name after five hours of pet names that it took him a moment to really process what had just been said. And even then it wasn’t what was said that confused him because, hello, you’d have to be brain-dead or a -0.2 on the Kinsey scale not to think Jackman was smokin’, but the way this fact was said.
Like it had been ripped from a dark, secret place in Karofsky’s chest, somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.
“I could work out every day for the rest of my life and I would never have a body like that,” Karofsky continued. “So, really, I need to get over this stupid crush and find something better to focus on.” Kurt perked up his ears. Crush? Who did Karofsky have a crush on? But instead of obliging Kurt with an answer, Karofsky just sighed and said, “Jesus, how pathetic is this, pouring out my woes to a kitten? Oh well, who cares what he thinks, no matter how pretty he is. At least I know you’ll always love me. I can tell you like your men with a bit of belly, don’t you, buddy?”
As Kurt curled up on Karofsky’s stomach he had to admit this was true. Washboard abs were pretty to look at, but there was nothing better than being able to cuddle comfortably. The jock was soft and warm and soon, Kurt found himself drifting off to sleep with the sound of shouts from the TV and the feel of Karofsky’s rhythmic breathing beneath him.
Author: tastykaromel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously, even the computer this was written on belongs to my boyfriend.
Summary: Through strange and bizarre means that the author is too lazy to fully explain, Kurt gets turned into a kitten. Yeah, you read that right.
A/N: *shy wave* Hey, everybody, I’m finally back with another humble chapter. I’ve learned a lot about myself since I’ve started writing this story. Like apparently I’m one of those authors who do a couple chapters and get loads of awesome support and comments from everybody and even a few friends and then disappears off the face of the planet when faced with writer’s block. Also, it’s a good idea to have your story at least semi-plotted out before you start in order to help prevent said writer’s block. Finally, I’ve learned that if you lose the juice for a story for a while (or, you know, four months!) you can find it again with the proper motivation (like signing up for the piratebigbang and getting a really good story idea and realizing that you should probably finish your last story before you start a new one). Anyway, I apologize tremendously for the wait. Here is the new chapter, there will be one more that I hope to have up within the week and then a short, little epilogue. Enjoy!
It took a few minutes, but eventually Kurt was able to drag himself away from his mortification for long enough to remember that Karofsky had finally left him alone and if he was going to get a chance to escape, this would be it.
However, when Kurt made it to the edge of the bed and saw what an awfully long way down it was he decided he might be better off just chilling on the bed. Not because he was scared of the jump or anything, that would be ridiculous. No, he just decided that his best option would be to stay where he was.
After all, if Karofsky hadn’t tried to pull out his whiskers or tie cans to his tail or something else befitting the bully’s MO yet, then chances were he probably wasn’t going to. Besides, Kurt reasoned, where would he even go once he got off the bed? Karofsky had closed the door behind him and even if Kurt could get out, he had no idea where Karofsky lived. He would be just another of Lima’s strays, wandering aimlessly through the streets and would probably end up getting run over by a car.
Kurt lay back down on the bed, curling in on himself and sniffing piteously at his supposed fate. No, the best thing to do right now was stay with Karofsky until this situation fixed itself. Kurt didn’t have the smallest clue how he could do anything so he had to hope that the spell or curse or whatever came with a time limit.
Kurt tried to recall everything the gypsy lady had said, hoping a hint might pop out of her cryptic words. Kurt remembered they’d been talking about his true love and Kurt hadn’t really believed her and then she said, “You can’t see it now, but you will.” And then Kurt had heard the words again in the bathroom right before he’d been turned into a kitten.
So that had to be important somehow, but Kurt couldn’t see how it would help him get back to normal. Did Kurt have to see something in order to change back? That would make sense, but what was he supposed to see? Whatever it was, Kurt was willing to bet that Karofsky’s dirty laundry wasn’t it. And that was all Kurt could see; just stray clothes and hockey posters and, oh hey, Karofsky was back.
Kurt scrambled to his feet to see what Karofsky had brought back. He wasn’t able to get a good look however before Karofsky knelt down on the floor out of Kurt sight. Kurt moved to the edge of the bed but he still couldn’t see anything around Karofsky’s broad back. He gave a yowl of annoyance at being ignored and Karofsky turned his head Kurt’s way.
“What’s the matter, buddy? Can’t you get off the bed?” Karofsky asked with a teasing grin. Kurt huffed and eyed the floor again. Ok, technically, Kurt knew that that cat’s always landed on their feet, but he could still remember the shock of pain that had shot through his bones when Sylvester had thrown him and he had no interest in experiencing it again.
So instead Kurt mewed piteously, appealing to this unlikely fondness Karofsky appeared to have for pitiful things. Not that Kurt was pitiful, but if he needed to play the part to get Karofsky to do his bidding, well, let it never be said that Kurt Hummel didn’t know how to act.
Sure enough, Karofsky played right into his hand, er, paw; standing up and moving towards the bed, his teasing grin softening into a fond one. He picked Kurt up gently and Kurt allowed a purr to escape as Karofsky petted him, paying particular attention to the sensitive spot behind his ears and under his chin.
Kurt should have known it was a trap.
Karofsky sat him down in a tray that was filled with small, gray, pebbly things that were difficult to stand on. Kurt couldn’t figure out what it was until Karofsky said, “Come on buddy, you got to get used to going here. Dad will flip his shit if you have an accident on the new carpet.”
Oh. Hell. To. The. No.
Kurt fled from what he now realized was a litter box. He made it halfway to the bed before Karofsky snatched him up.
“No, we’ll play after you go potty,” Karofsky said Kurt yowled in objection, but of course the jock chose this issue to be firm on. “Just go potty and then I’ll get you something to eat.”
Kurt sat his little bottom down and sulked. There was no way he was going to the bathroom in a litter box and he absolutely wasn’t going while Karofsky was watching him. The worst part was that now that the subject had been brought up, Kurt realized that he actually did have to go really bad.
He meowed imploringly. If Karofsky just went away for a few minutes he could maybe handle the indignity of using a litter box. Amazingly, it seemed like Karofsky was some sort of cat whisperer because he said, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling shy?”
Kurt meowed several times in quick succession, hoping Karofsky would get the hint.
“Geeze, you’re prissy,” Karofsky said, pushing the litter box into the closet and behind the door. Kurt wanted to be affronted about the prissy comment, but he was too happy that he’s actually been able to communicate with the jock. He spent a minute or so scratching at the litter to psych himself up. Finally, he had to just squat down and let nature take over.
Feeling unexpectedly proud of himself, Kurt walked back out with his head held high. Then Karofsky was scooping him up and praising him for pissing in the closet.
Yeah, that was weird.
But Kurt tolerated Karofsky’s cooing if only because he knew food was coming. The boy settled on the bed with Kurt in his lap. He opened a tubberware container, releasing a waft of…oohh, that was tuna.
Kurt had never been a big fan of tuna; but suddenly it seemed like the most delicious thing ever, even better then the barbeque earlier. Karofsky set the container down in front of him and Kurt forgot himself a little bit, diving in head first and scarfing it down. Karofsky chuckled behind him and ran a hand down his back, saying, “Easy, easy, it’s not going to sprout legs and run off on you.”
Kurt tried to slow down, really he did, but every instinct in him was saying to keep chugging away until it was all gone and there was nothing left to do except lick the bottom of tub in hopes of more appearing. Karofsky pulled it away and rubbed the underside of Kurt’s neck, “Wow, you were hungry, weren’t you? Wait here and I’ll go get you some water.”
He set Kurt on the floor and went into the adjacent bathroom. Kurt could see him washing the container and he came back with it full to the brim with clear water. Kurt managed to be a little neater lapping up the water and when he was done he sat back feeling full and satisfied. The only thing that Kurt thought would make the moment better would be if Karofsky came and scratched him behind the ears.
Only the jock seemed to have chosen that moment to stop his hovering. He was flipping through his shelf of DVDs and ignoring Kurt completely. Kurt huffed at the nerve and stalked over to remind Karofsky of his priorities. Any other cat would have rubbed against the boy’s ankles, but Kurt preferred the more direct approach.
He sat down on Karofsky’s left foot.
The idiot just looked down at him with that doopy grin and said, “Want to watch a movie with me, buddy?” before slipping his foot out from under Kurt’s bottom and moving to the TV without any petting, at all. Of course, Kurt couldn’t scowl, but it would have been useful right now. If Karofsky was going to go against character and be strangely sweet and attentive, then he should be that way all the time instead of showering Kurt with affection and then just going off to watch a movie.
The jerk had started the DVD by the time Kurt was finished with his indignant, internal fury and was now laying down on his bed. The movie was clearly something lame with lots of mindless shooting and explosions and Karofsky’s time would be much better spent paying attention to Kurt, he just needed to be reminded of that fact.
Kurt yowled yet again, if he wasn’t careful he was going to strain his vocal chords. All that got him was Karofsky leaning over the side of the bed to say, “Don’t give me that, if you want on the bed you’re going to have to get up here yourself.” Kurt yowled in protest, trying to put as much accusation as possible into it.
“No, you’ve got to learn to take care of yourself. You’re going to the shelter tomorrow and I won’t be there to help you with every little thing.” Karofsky patted the blankets beside him. “Come on, it’s not that high, you can do it.”
Kurt huffed, but he backed up, judging the distance. He made a running leap for the edge of the bed and made it, literally, by the tips of his claws. He scrambled the rest of the way up, a bit undignified, but proud of his accomplishment. Karofsky was too apparently, giving him lots of praises and multiple kisses over his face and ears. Kurt was surprised by how comfortable that was, still a little embarrassing of course, but nice.
Kurt tried to distract himself from the strange feelings by focusing on the movie and was pleased to see that it was X-Men Origins: Wolverine. It was a testosterone infused action flick, but it had hunky Hugh Jackman in it who showed off his muscles a lot.
Kurt purred in approval.
Karofsky chuckled and said, “Does this meet with your approval? Can you keep a secret precious? I think Wolverine is kind of hot.”
Kurt mewed in shock, whipping his head around to stare at Karofsky with wide eyes. Had the jock really just come out to him? Karofsky looked a little shell-shocked himself and he took a few deep breaths before saying, “Wow, that’s the first time I’ve said that out loud.”
Kurt laid a paw on Karofsky’s forearm and for the first time wished he was in human form, not so that he could get away from the jock, but so that he could pull him closer. Karofsky responded with a smile that was only a little bit shaky and laid back against the headboard, saying, “Ok, that wasn’t so bad, now if only I could tell someone who might actually respond,” as he placed Kurt on top of him.
“You know Kurt probably thinks Wolverine is hot too. Clearly he likes men all ripped and shit.” Kurt was so surprised to finally hear his real name after five hours of pet names that it took him a moment to really process what had just been said. And even then it wasn’t what was said that confused him because, hello, you’d have to be brain-dead or a -0.2 on the Kinsey scale not to think Jackman was smokin’, but the way this fact was said.
Like it had been ripped from a dark, secret place in Karofsky’s chest, somewhere in the vicinity of his heart.
“I could work out every day for the rest of my life and I would never have a body like that,” Karofsky continued. “So, really, I need to get over this stupid crush and find something better to focus on.” Kurt perked up his ears. Crush? Who did Karofsky have a crush on? But instead of obliging Kurt with an answer, Karofsky just sighed and said, “Jesus, how pathetic is this, pouring out my woes to a kitten? Oh well, who cares what he thinks, no matter how pretty he is. At least I know you’ll always love me. I can tell you like your men with a bit of belly, don’t you, buddy?”
As Kurt curled up on Karofsky’s stomach he had to admit this was true. Washboard abs were pretty to look at, but there was nothing better than being able to cuddle comfortably. The jock was soft and warm and soon, Kurt found himself drifting off to sleep with the sound of shouts from the TV and the feel of Karofsky’s rhythmic breathing beneath him.