crazybutsound (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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fellowshippers2003-07-22 02:04 am
crazybutsound) wrote in fellowshippers2003-07-22 02:04 am
"Of Cats and Men" - PG-13, OB/DM & EW/BB
Title: Of Cats and Men
Author: Jem (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
crazybutsound)
Pairing: OB/DM, EW/BB
Rating: PG
Summary: Wherein Orlando sprouts a lot of fur, Elijah doesn't like Viggo's collection of beer mugs, Dom has no problems coping at all, and Billy is so very confused.
Disclaimer: I really don't think any of this has ever happened. Actually, I don't think anybody has ever turned into a cat. I'd be appalled if anybody took this seriously. *grins*
Author's note: this was inspired in great parts by a popslash story I read and adored and in which Lance turned into a kitty. Thanks to many many people,piran for useful pointers, hjartad, rynalwyn and aelane for listening to me whine about it endlessly, and to my Lilli for pointing out some mistakes.
Feedback: yes, please. And constructive criticism is honestly more than welcome.
OF CATS AND MEN
All in all, it didn’t really change things much.
At least Billy didn’t think it did. He watched as the big ball of red fur purred and curled around Dom’s hand on the bed, and tried to remember why they’d freaked out at all at finding they’d lost one Orlando Bloom only to gain one equally eagerly affectionate house pet instead.
Well, freaked was the word, though, for how they’d reacted at first. Elijah had thrown a few things, for one, breaking some of Viggo’s beer mugs in the process. Elijah liked all things to be loud, apparently, especially when one of his friends managed to steal the spotlight away from him by... say... turning into a cat, for example. There wasn’t much he’d stop at, and obviously hissy fits and mangling of breakable collectibles—preferably ugly and not his own—were as good a way as any for him to steal the spotlight right back.
So yes, they’d freaked. A little. Maybe even a lot. But once Elijah had been calmed down by Dom’s scolding, once a tea towel had been provided for Billy to wrap around his scratched fingers, and once Dom had settled on the bed with a pacified cat, Billy had started to feel like maybe this wasn’t as big a deal as they’d all first thought it was.
At any rate, there had to be a rational explanation for this.
“You do realize that Orlando’s turned into a cat, yeah?”
And yes, now that he’d said it out loud, Billy did realize that rationalizing the whole thing might turn out trickier than he’d hoped. He’d felt it needed to be stated, though. Because hissing and scratching and petting weren’t really moving things along towards a straightening of the situation, and even if rationalizing turned out impossible, Billy wanted to stop feeling helpless about it.
He looked up at Elijah, expecting to at least see something other than unconcerned acceptance which was what he guessed Dom’s shrug had just meant. Billy still wasn’t freaking out by his own standards, but he wasn’t sure he believed or even was willing to accept things so out of this realm as Orlando waking up as a big tabby cat.
Elijah burrowed deeper in the cushions of the sofa and scowled. If glares could kill, there was no doubt in Billy’s mind that the cat on the bed would have been reduced to a smoking pile of crisped red hairs by now. An image that for about two seconds felt oddly appealing: no more cat, no more fucked up assumptions that it was normal for any given human being to wake up with more fur on their body than even Sean Connery had ever displayed…
No more Orlando, though.
Dom chuckled, hand still buried in soft red fur, Elijah grumbled, a few obscenities indistinctly wrapped around Orlando’s name on his tongue, and Billy sighed. If this was a joke, Billy knew one tall English boy who’d soon wish he’d never thought to mess with Billy’s mind and Elijah’s ego. But if it wasn’t…
Dom chuckled again and Billy watched as the cat lifted its pointy head and butted it happily against Dom’s fingers. Small white teeth were barely visible as Dom slipped his fingers along the smooth fur of the cat’s jaw, and the mouth opened on a loud mewl. When the cat started to nip eagerly at the hand that kept petting it, Billy could almost swear that…Orlando was no longer the only one to purr.
If this wasn’t a joke, Billy suspected Orlando had just died and gone to cat heaven.
To Billy’s concern they didn’t really talk much about it afterwards. At least not in the rational, solution-seeking way Billy would have liked.
They’d settled down at the breakfast table, the smell of morning coffee and Elijah’s scowl as familiar by then as Viggo’s photographs, framed and propped against the wall in the upstairs corridor. Billy had found himself desperately wishing for the owner of the house to return, hoping that Viggo’s always logical take on things would help to make sense of the situation. But Viggo was still in Japan, frolicking with Karl and certainly no more likely to be concerned about cats, Orlando, or his precious collection of beer mugs, than Dom or Elijah seemed to be. Billy even suspected that Viggo might actually take to the whole thing like a fish to water and turn this x-file into some bestseller book of pictures and poems.
Not that Billy had anything against Viggo’s art and poetry. Still, right now, his main priority was to be able to at least have a quiet breakfast if they weren’t going to discuss things seriously. Of course, finding a way to shut the cat up would probably have helped a lot. To his discharge, Billy had to admit that Orlando had never been easy to deal with in the morning: the guy had a way of whining at full volume right up until he’d had at least one large cup of very black coffee and half a dozen pieces of toast. It was just slightly unsettling that this morning’s whining consisted only of offended mewls. The cat… Orlando was just craving breakfast as badly as Billy did.
To add to Billy’s distress and blooming headache, Dom had been banging cupboard doors loudly for a full five minutes, obviously trying to find some elusive thing.
“Dom, for Pete’s sake, stop with the banging, already!”
“I’m just looking for something to give to Orlando for breakfast.”
Billy chose to ignore the fact that Dom didn’t seem to even flinch at the mention of Orlando’s name and that it was obviously very normal for him to call a tabby cat by their missing friend’s name. If Dom was trying to find food for… Orlando, then he was working towards the same goal as Billy. That was good enough for now.
One question remained, though: what did Orlando… what did a cat eat for breakfast? A question which had apparently also occurred to Elijah.
“Viggo doesn’t have a cat.”
“So?”
“So you can stop searching now, Dom, you won’t find any cat food.”
If Billy had found Elijah’s earlier glare deadly, Dom’s sudden snarl was definitely just as menacing. Even the cat… even Orlando seemed to think so as he suddenly stopped mewling and cowered under the table at Billy’s feet.
“I’m not bloody well giving cat food to Orlando!”
“Why not? He’s a fucking cat!”
“He’s Orlando, you cunt!”
“We don’t know that for sure, Dom. But he’s definitely a cat. Give him some milk and I’ll go grocery shopping after breakfast.”
“Fuck you, Elijah!”
“Ah. Well, since we’re on the subject of fucking. You are aware that zoophiles are gross and they’re perverts, and that it’s all very wrong on many many levels, right?”
At that point in the conversation, Billy wasn’t sure he still knew what was weirder: Dom and Elijah shouting and hissing at each other, accusing each other of sins Billy had never even heard of, or Orlando’s claws—Orlando’s claws—digging insistently into his ankle. Billy already had scratched fingers, he wasn’t about to lose a foot as well. He got up and walked around the table to the counter, trying not to step on a tail or a paw, and grabbed a bowl, hastily pouring milk into it before bending down and putting it on the floor by the sink. He might have been just as reluctant as Dom about giving soggy cat food to a pet they all thought had once been a tall dark haired actor, but milk couldn’t hurt. Orlando as a human had liked milk well enough.
Surprisingly, Orlando made one lousy cat.
Given the faith millions of fans had in Orlando’s catlike grace, Billy was a little surprised when their new pet turned out to be the clumsiest feline Billy had ever seen. Admittedly, watching the cat seek out the highest, most dangerous places to climb did a lot to convince Billy this really wasn’t a joke. Not that cats didn’t—to the best of Billy’s knowledge—seek out trees and high shelves and other places to jump on top of, but really, he’d never seen a cat that eager to find a way to the top of a ceiling chandelier.
The climbing wasn’t the worst part, though. The coming down off of high places was what managed to pretty much convince Billy they really were dealing with a kitty version of Orlando. It also made Billy tremendously relieved at the thought that Orlando had always practised his extreme sports properly and very safely harnessed.
Billy had heard it repeatedly: no matter how high you dropped them from, cats always landed back on their feet. He wasn’t sure it was scientifically proven, but he was pretty certain he’d never seen a cat jump from a table and gracelessly fall on its side, slide on the polished floor for a few seconds, before finally righting itself up and dizzily walking off.
Orlando didn’t seem to be able to jump to the floor from anywhere, and land onto his four paws.
“It’s a good thing Peter never saw him fall that clumsily off a chair, man.”
Elijah had taken to pointing out every single clumsy stumble with what sounded suspiciously like glee to Billy. Billy wasn’t sure whether Orlando could still hear and understand them when they spoke, but he didn’t think Elijah was being very nice. Billy could almost have sworn that Elijah was jealous of Orlando, had it not sounded extremely unlikely that anybody with a little common sense could envy someone else for having turned into a cat.
Elijah did usually have a lot of common sense.
“Seriously, how fucked up is that? The guy turns into a cat and he can’t even act like one.”
“Elijah…”
“Well, it’s true! I’ve never seen such a stupid fucking clumsy cat before!”
Billy would have protested, told Elijah off for bad-mouthing a friend, but then a crash was heard somewhere in the house, and a big red ball of scared fur came running—skidding frantically on the hardwood floor—and crashed right into the door next to the sofa.
Despite all of Orlando’s supposedly catlike grace, Elijah might actually have had a point.
Orlando’s clumsiness did not however explain why Elijah was being so nastily jealous, nor why Orlando seemed to delight in scratching Billy’s feeding hand whenever he could. If anything, Billy kind of thought that was mightily ungrateful.
Billy was confused. Confused and upset, and yes, annoyed because he still couldn’t make up his mind about believing things or dismissing them as a stupid prank. But Billy wouldn’t have thought of taking any of his frustrations out on a poor little tabby. Elijah apparently didn’t have the same scruples.
Orlando had always been very touchy-feely, and despite all the sighs and groans, none of his friends actually minded when he casually draped himself all over them and nuzzled their cheeks. Billy personally found it rather endearing, and if one took into consideration that particular outrageous incident on the red carpet during a London premiere, Billy was pretty sure Elijah had never minded either.
Now. What could be cuddlier than Orlando if not a cat version of him? Then why wasn’t Elijah purring along with Dom, scratching at the cat’s ears and loving every minute of it?
What was even more puzzling to Billy was that he often walked in on Elijah and Orlando curled up on the couch, looking for all intents and purposes like they were talking—or meowing, as was the case. But as soon as Elijah would notice Billy’s presence, he’d push the cat off his lap and snort at the poor thing’s ungraceful fall. Orlando would then proceed to get off his rear with as much dignity as he could gather, walk past Billy’s legs, send a fully clawed paw out and scratch Billy’s ankle on his way out.
As a result, Billy never got any cuddling time with Orlando whenever Elijah was around, and Elijah seemed to be around Billy constantly. Had Billy been the suspicious type, he might even have interpreted Elijah’s constant derogatory comments about cat Orlando as another way of keeping Orlando out of the room and away from Billy.
But then, how would that explain anything? And again, why was Orlando so scratchy-feely with Billy? It all simply made no sense. Though given their current predicament, Billy didn’t think it really mattered that yet another thing remained unexplained.
One thing that didn’t change at all with Orlando being a cat was his complete disregard for personal space. If anything, Orlando grew even more annoying in his systematic invasion of his friends’ privacy.
The day Billy walked out of the shower and into his room—already pulling the towel off—to find cat Orlando sitting on his bed, eyes wide and predatory, he decided it was time to invest in some sort of cat-repulsing stuff. He’d heard about something you could spray on fences and such, to keep cats from digging holes into your garden, and he wondered if the smell would be too foul or if he could maybe use it to keep Orlando out of his clean laundry. When the cat on his bed started unconcernedly licking his rear paw and rubbing it behind his ear, while Billy struggled to retrieve the towel from the floor and wrap it around his waist again, he decided that no matter how much he’d loved Orlando as a human being, he wasn’t about to let a bloody cat rule the house like it was no big deal that they all thought he’d once been perfectly human.
To be honest, Billy would have had to admit he still didn’t quite believe the whole thing was real, anyway. Here they were, four—well, three, really—tight friends, on a week off at another friend’s ranch, trying to have fun and get as much lazing around as possible before hitting rush hour in their respective schedules, and all of a sudden, they were talking to a cat and treating a big red ball of fur as some kind of equal. Whether Orlando really had turned into a tabby, or whether he was going to walk through the front door any minute, laughing his ass off at a perfect prank and their gullibility, Billy was nevertheless going to put as much of a stop to the whole insanity as he could.
What got to Billy the most, though, was the fact that after three days of gritting his teeth every time a too sharp claw dug into his thigh, or walking into a room to find the once hanging potted plants on the floor and cat Orlando trying to shake off dirt and leaves, or being unable to watch TV from the really comfy chair Viggo’d gotten from a garage sale for fear of pissing off a fur ball who’d already decided this chair was to be his and his only when he’d still been a boy… even after three days of this—and no matter what Dom said, none of this would ever be normal—Billy was still the only one to be surprised every time he walked into Orlando’s bedroom and couldn’t find anybody else but Dom sprawled out on top of the duvet, cat purring happily on his chest.
Even Elijah wasn’t so adamant in his jealousy anymore. Maybe because taking out all of his frustration on a harmless pet had finally struck Elijah as slightly less coherent and mature than he’d been trying to appear to everybody since he’d shaved his hair off. Billy wasn’t any closer to understanding why Elijah had been so jealous of the cat in the first place, though, nor why he still seemed to be whenever he was around Billy, and Billy was expressing concern over open doors and windows and cats ending up as road kill daily.
All in all, Billy just really thought it wasn’t fair. He’d been an adult too long, despite the dreams and the acting, and the fact that his best friends were still much closer to childhood than he’d been in a very long time. There was no way in hell he could simply take it all in stride, agree to share a house with an overly affectionate cat and understand how all of a sudden it was ok to believe in people waking up as animals, or why there was anything to be jealous of in that fact.
Mostly, Billy just thought it wasn’t fair that Orlando was the cat, and Billy was still the one spitting out fur balls constantly.
Out of the three of them, Dom was the one who seemed to be the most at ease with the situation. He hadn’t freaked out at all, and even though he still snarled at Elijah when Elijah sounded too nasty, he was the only one of them who could keep them all grounded.
Billy couldn’t make up his mind about what he was ready to believe, and watching the cat sprawl out on his back, all four paws in the air and white furry tummy shamelessly exposed, he kept thinking about what ifs…
What if this really were Orlando? What if they left a door open too long, one day, and the bloody stupid git got out and got lost? What if a neighbour’s dog managed to put its grimy paws and slimy fangs on that spotless white tummy and left Orlando with a few more scars to add to his collection?
Billy had never realized he could be as much of a worrier as Astin. He’d never been wild and funny like Dom, never been adventurous and crazy like Orlando, never been bouncy and overeager like Elijah… but he’d certainly never been as anally-retentive as Sean.
Billy worried a lot about Orlando, though.
Every time Billy walked into a room, he instinctively looked for the cat, and for any trace of carelessness in leaving ways out wide open for Orlando to escape. Billy also woke up every morning and battled nausea in order to pour canned stinky stuff into Orlando’s bowl, before he’d even had coffee.
According to Dom, this was just Billy’s way of coping, since even Dom admitted he’d never experienced anything weirder before. And weird wasn’t all that common to Billy. Weird had never been much more than a few crazy endeavours from his friends, or a particularly hectic set, with way too many visual effects guys prodding around.
Weird had sometimes been Orlando, but this whole cat thing was bringing that to unprecedented levels.
Elijah had his own way of coping, it seemed. This incidentally provided Billy with more things to uncharacteristically worry about. Also, Billy had finally come to the conclusion that Elijah’s jealousy towards Orlando only struck when he—Billy—was around as well. It still didn’t make anything clearer, but it did make Billy feel guilty on top of worried.
As for Dom…
Billy watched as Orlando rolled over, sprawling a bit more, claws digging into Dom’s jeans. Billy winced, but when he looked up, Dom seemed to be somewhere between oblivious and blissfully happy, Billy couldn’t quite tell. He watched, fascinated, as Dom’s long fingers buried themselves in the fur, scratching idly under the jaw, eliciting even louder purring from the most hedonistic cat Billy thought he’d ever meet.
And yes, Dom really did look perfectly happy.
For a moment, there, Billy got a hint of what he supposed Elijah’s jealousy felt like. Envy clutched at his guts, as well as the sharp need to snap and push Orlando off the couch—because damn it, there was enough cat hair everywhere to choke Viggo’s vacuum, and anyway, cat hair and claw marks were bound to make Viggo regret lending his house to them for a few days.
For a moment there, Billy found himself wishing so hard for some of Dom’s light heartedness, that it left him reeling from the sudden burst of anger, leaving him wide eyed and breathless, looking helplessly on as cat Orlando opened his tiny little mouth and started licking Dom’s fingers eagerly.
There was a purr from the cat and a blissful sigh from Dom, and Billy suddenly blushed, feeling strangely out of place, maybe even like a voyeur, not to mention ashamed at having found himself nurturing less than philanthropic thoughts towards Orlando. He looked up at Elijah, expecting to find him blushing embarrassedly as well, or at least trying to avert his eyes from Orlando and Dom, but was startled to find Elijah’s strangely intense gaze set firmly on him. He blushed further—feeling caught—and turned his attention back to the TV, still feeling Elijah’s eyes on his neck. On the couch next to them, Dom started purring along with Orlando and Billy dug himself deeper into the cushions.
Dom, it seemed, didn’t need to find a way to cope at all.
By the time he’d been redirected to imdb.com for the umpteenth time, Billy was ready to throw Elijah’s laptop out of the window. How many bloody films were there about murderous cat people, anyway? And why was it that in all of those stupid shows Elijah and Dom loved so much, one only had to type “big gross green demon” to find out very valuable information and help the heroin rid the world of its latest plague?
Well, obviously, this was all a case of media misinformation. And maybe the fact that the girls on these shows were called Buffy, Willow, and whatever else, should have clued Billy in on the fact that all of it, down to the last detail, was just made up. The internet was a big useless void of uninteresting knowledge.
Billy shuddered as he read yet another summary about innocent virgins turning into dangerous throat-slitting felines at night. Not the kind of reassurance he’d been looking for, here. Really, the fact that Orlando had turned into a tabby was more than enough to still be freaking him out after five days of cutting his fingers on cans of cat food. Billy didn’t need the added images brought to him in Technicolor of Orlando sending a paw out, all claws visible, and slitting Dom’s throat in his sleep.
He tried clicking on a few more links, cursing under his breath as more images of Nastassja Kinski and big black panthers filled the screen. Of course, Orlando chose that time to appear out of nowhere and jump on top of the mouse pad, trapping the mouse and Billy’s hand under him in the process. Billy’s sudden panicked shriek didn’t seem to faze the cat at all.
Billy withdrew his hand gingerly, but the mouse remained trapped under Orlando’s furry bottom. The tabby didn’t even move, and Billy groaned as windows started popping up and down on the screen in front of him.
“Look, you bloody stupid nuisance, I’m looking for ways to help you out, here. So get off, ok?”
The cat lifted a disinterested eye to Billy’s pissed off frown, then went back to intently licking his paw. Orlando had always been very keen on having perfectly manicured hands.
Billy glared.
“I suppose you’re going to say you told me so?”
The cat turned to his other paw, ignoring Billy and his attempt at getting the mouse back. There was obviously no way of shoving Orlando off the mouse pad without pushing the mouse to the floor as well. Billy would have tried the laptop’s own touch board, but of course, it wasn’t working at all. Elijah had mumbled something about ketchup and fries, and Billy had cringed at the stickiness. He’d avoided touching anything else but the mouse and a few keys since.
Billy looked from the screen to Orlando, back to the screen again, and shrugged. Not like it had been a fruitful search so far. He held his hand out to the Tabby and waited. Orlando looked up, watched the hand draw nearer and started sniffing at it cautiously. Billy snorted.
“Oh, right, like you’re the one who should be worried about where my fingers have been. Hullo, pot? Kettle on line three. You do realize you’ve been licking your own ass for nearly a week, now?”
Billy could have been mistaken, but the soft purr that the cat gave in answer sounded suspiciously like a snort. Still, Billy drew his hand closer and soon found himself cautiously petting red fur. Due mainly to Elijah’s repeated attempts at keeping them apart, Billy hadn’t yet felt bold enough to pet cat Orlando. He’d petted boy Orlando a lot, though. He’d blamed it mostly on the hair. Orlando had grown it for his role as one of these manly pirates with girlishly long hair, and Dom, Elijah and Billy had teased him endlessly about it, tugging on it delightfully and calling him Legolette.
And yes, they all had the maturity of a 12 year old.
The truth, though, was that Billy had missed it. As he grew bolder and started scratching behind Orlando’s ear, Billy felt a surge of sudden relief. He lowered his face to the cat’s level, rested his cheek softly against the table and watched as Orlando purred, head pushing against Billy’s hand, shamelessly asking to be petted and loved. So much like boy Orlando, that. Billy really had missed it more than he’d cared to admit.
“Oi, Orlando.” Billy’s voice was so low, so hushed; he almost didn’t hear himself calling out his friend’s name. And what was he doing trying to talk to a cat, anyway? He’d been the last one standing, the last one to still mumble and grumble at breakfast, cussing a blue streak at Orlando for playing a mean joke and making them take care of his annoying pet, so what was he trying to prove by calling said cat by his supposed name?
Maybe just that believing weirder things could happen might be a step in the right direction. Whether Orlando had cameras around the house, watching them deal and waiting for Billy to cave in and treat the cat as a friend, or whether Orlando really had turned into a pet, denial probably wasn’t the right approach. As far as Billy knew, denial was never the right approach, even if usually the most likely one for people to take. That and obliviousness.
Billy tapped his finger lightly behind the cat’s ear and tried to look deep into yellow eyes. “I miss you, you stupid bugger. Come back, ok? Oh, and while we’re at it, I get it that you’re trying to tell me something, but could you stop scratching my hands and legs and wait until you can talk again to say whatever you have to say?”
The day Orlando came back—turned back—felt disappointedly anti-climactic to Billy.
It was late morning, there had been heavy drinking the night before and rather unsurprisingly, Billy had been the first one up. The only one up so far, even. He’d already made coffee, raided the cupboards for toast and any leftover cereal, and poured stinky stuff in Orlando’s bowl. When the others had failed to show up, and when even the cat had seemed to be missing, Billy had made his way back upstairs to try and look for any casualties. For all he remembered, Elijah could have fallen asleep on the toilet seat, and Dom could have been passed out in the linen closet. It might be a nice thing as a friend to try and wake them up before either of them ended up with a nasty crick in their neck.
Billy felt his motives had been charitable enough to justify his standing at Dom’s bedroom door, peering in and simply checking on whoever was inside. The fact that Billy was here only out of concern and the fact that Dom’s door had been open, made Billy feel less like a voyeur. After all, if standing next to the door, shoulder smashed against the corridor wall in order to be able to press his eye to the slit between door and frame made Billy able to see the two very naked bodies curled around one another on the bed, it undoubtedly meant that Dom had left his door open on purpose… well, ajar, really. Still…
Billy couldn’t see all that much anyway. Just enough to be able to say that 1) Orlando was back, 2) he’d probably turned back some time during the night, which explained the lack of clothes, and 3)… well, 3) Dom was naked and there didn’t seem to be any reason for that other than the fact that Orlando was closely wrapped around him and that Dom had probably been too hot and had needed to push away clothes and sheets at some point after Orlando had turned back.
It almost made sense.
There was also the other plausible explanation for this which held the added merit of explaining most of the numerous accusations Elijah had thrown at Dom over the week. In Billy’s opinion, the whole thing didn’t technically make a zoophile out of Dom, but it did explain Elijah’s point of view.
At any rate, since Orlando was back, things could start feeling normal again. Billy was going to start by throwing away the stinky food he’d poured for cat Orlando earlier that morning. And if he never saw another can of it in his entire life, it would be wonderful.
“They’re disgustingly cute, aren’t they?”
Billy jumped and barely contained his shriek. “Elijah! Jeez! Don’t creep up on me like that! Ow, my heart.”
Elijah grinned, looked at Dom’s door then at Billy again and raised a questioning eyebrow. As far as Billy could tell, from where he was standing, Elijah couldn’t see inside. The raised eyebrow and the “cute” comment did however leave him with no doubt as to what Elijah already knew. Maybe he’d known even longer than Billy, who’d really only known for a little over five minutes.
Denial and obliviousness, Billy thought. “Yes, they’re disgustingly cute.” He shrugged and smiled back, watching as a cloud seemed to pass over Elijah’s face.
“D’you think it’ll happen again?”
“What?”
“One of us. Turning into a pet. D’you think it’ll happen again?”
Billy thought it wasn’t likely. Then again, it hadn’t been likely before, and yet.
There was something in Elijah’s eyes, though, something that held Billy’s tongue. A sparkle, some trace of jealousy, or maybe just hope, Billy couldn’t quite tell. “Why? You want to eat cat food for every meal for a week, too?”
It sounded perfectly ludicrous to Billy. He knew Elijah had spent most of his week pouting, apparently envying Orlando for some obscure reason, but Billy really didn’t understand it. He didn’t see what was so wonderful about turning into a household pet. He certainly wasn’t ready for anything like that to happen again, neither to him, nor to any of his friends. He’d dealt with the Orlando situation as best he could, but he really didn’t think he’d be able to deal with Elijah waking up as… a pet hamster, for example.
“I don’t know, Bill. Doesn’t look like it was such a bad thing for Orlando.”
Right. Well, there was that. It indeed seemed like Orlando’s week as a cat had managed to make both Dom and Orlando realize what they’d been missing.
Elijah smiled. “And you know I’d make a good pet.”
It was Billy’s turn to raise a questioning eyebrow at Elijah’s wistful tone. “You are serious.” And yes, Elijah was, he could tell. Billy smiled at him again before turning back to the door and sneaking one last look at the two sleeping forms on Dom’s bed. Naked skin and tangled curls, and Dom’s sleepy hand petting Orlando’s curves.
A flash of what could have happened had Elijah been the one to turn into a cat went through Billy’s mind and he frowned. Yes, he could finally see why Elijah had seemed so jealous, but still… it hadn’t been just the cat part that had driven Dom to taking such good care of Orlando, to the point of ending up in bed with the real thing. Something told Billy that had Elijah been the one to turn into a pet, Dom wouldn’t have been dotting on him the way he’d dotted on Orlando. Then what was Elijah hoping for?
“Bill? You’d take care of me if I turned into a cat, yeah?”
Billy stilled, back still turned to Elijah, and held his breath. Denial and obliviousness, he thought again. And apparently, he’d been very good at both.
Billy turned back to Elijah, then, and reached out, smiling wider when Elijah tilted his head forward to allow Billy’s hand better access to pet what Dom and Orlando had affectionately dubbed “Lij’s bald spot.” Maybe more things were finally making sense than Billy had realized at first…
“You know, Lij, you’d make a pretty kitty, too.”
Billy could have been mistaken, of course, but the moan that came from Elijah sounded suspiciously like a purr.
THE END
Author: Jem (
crazybutsound)Pairing: OB/DM, EW/BB
Rating: PG
Summary: Wherein Orlando sprouts a lot of fur, Elijah doesn't like Viggo's collection of beer mugs, Dom has no problems coping at all, and Billy is so very confused.
Disclaimer: I really don't think any of this has ever happened. Actually, I don't think anybody has ever turned into a cat. I'd be appalled if anybody took this seriously. *grins*
Author's note: this was inspired in great parts by a popslash story I read and adored and in which Lance turned into a kitty. Thanks to many many people,
piran for useful pointers, hjartad, rynalwyn and aelane for listening to me whine about it endlessly, and to my Lilli for pointing out some mistakes.Feedback: yes, please. And constructive criticism is honestly more than welcome.
OF CATS AND MEN
All in all, it didn’t really change things much.
At least Billy didn’t think it did. He watched as the big ball of red fur purred and curled around Dom’s hand on the bed, and tried to remember why they’d freaked out at all at finding they’d lost one Orlando Bloom only to gain one equally eagerly affectionate house pet instead.
Well, freaked was the word, though, for how they’d reacted at first. Elijah had thrown a few things, for one, breaking some of Viggo’s beer mugs in the process. Elijah liked all things to be loud, apparently, especially when one of his friends managed to steal the spotlight away from him by... say... turning into a cat, for example. There wasn’t much he’d stop at, and obviously hissy fits and mangling of breakable collectibles—preferably ugly and not his own—were as good a way as any for him to steal the spotlight right back.
So yes, they’d freaked. A little. Maybe even a lot. But once Elijah had been calmed down by Dom’s scolding, once a tea towel had been provided for Billy to wrap around his scratched fingers, and once Dom had settled on the bed with a pacified cat, Billy had started to feel like maybe this wasn’t as big a deal as they’d all first thought it was.
At any rate, there had to be a rational explanation for this.
“You do realize that Orlando’s turned into a cat, yeah?”
And yes, now that he’d said it out loud, Billy did realize that rationalizing the whole thing might turn out trickier than he’d hoped. He’d felt it needed to be stated, though. Because hissing and scratching and petting weren’t really moving things along towards a straightening of the situation, and even if rationalizing turned out impossible, Billy wanted to stop feeling helpless about it.
He looked up at Elijah, expecting to at least see something other than unconcerned acceptance which was what he guessed Dom’s shrug had just meant. Billy still wasn’t freaking out by his own standards, but he wasn’t sure he believed or even was willing to accept things so out of this realm as Orlando waking up as a big tabby cat.
Elijah burrowed deeper in the cushions of the sofa and scowled. If glares could kill, there was no doubt in Billy’s mind that the cat on the bed would have been reduced to a smoking pile of crisped red hairs by now. An image that for about two seconds felt oddly appealing: no more cat, no more fucked up assumptions that it was normal for any given human being to wake up with more fur on their body than even Sean Connery had ever displayed…
No more Orlando, though.
Dom chuckled, hand still buried in soft red fur, Elijah grumbled, a few obscenities indistinctly wrapped around Orlando’s name on his tongue, and Billy sighed. If this was a joke, Billy knew one tall English boy who’d soon wish he’d never thought to mess with Billy’s mind and Elijah’s ego. But if it wasn’t…
Dom chuckled again and Billy watched as the cat lifted its pointy head and butted it happily against Dom’s fingers. Small white teeth were barely visible as Dom slipped his fingers along the smooth fur of the cat’s jaw, and the mouth opened on a loud mewl. When the cat started to nip eagerly at the hand that kept petting it, Billy could almost swear that…Orlando was no longer the only one to purr.
If this wasn’t a joke, Billy suspected Orlando had just died and gone to cat heaven.
To Billy’s concern they didn’t really talk much about it afterwards. At least not in the rational, solution-seeking way Billy would have liked.
They’d settled down at the breakfast table, the smell of morning coffee and Elijah’s scowl as familiar by then as Viggo’s photographs, framed and propped against the wall in the upstairs corridor. Billy had found himself desperately wishing for the owner of the house to return, hoping that Viggo’s always logical take on things would help to make sense of the situation. But Viggo was still in Japan, frolicking with Karl and certainly no more likely to be concerned about cats, Orlando, or his precious collection of beer mugs, than Dom or Elijah seemed to be. Billy even suspected that Viggo might actually take to the whole thing like a fish to water and turn this x-file into some bestseller book of pictures and poems.
Not that Billy had anything against Viggo’s art and poetry. Still, right now, his main priority was to be able to at least have a quiet breakfast if they weren’t going to discuss things seriously. Of course, finding a way to shut the cat up would probably have helped a lot. To his discharge, Billy had to admit that Orlando had never been easy to deal with in the morning: the guy had a way of whining at full volume right up until he’d had at least one large cup of very black coffee and half a dozen pieces of toast. It was just slightly unsettling that this morning’s whining consisted only of offended mewls. The cat… Orlando was just craving breakfast as badly as Billy did.
To add to Billy’s distress and blooming headache, Dom had been banging cupboard doors loudly for a full five minutes, obviously trying to find some elusive thing.
“Dom, for Pete’s sake, stop with the banging, already!”
“I’m just looking for something to give to Orlando for breakfast.”
Billy chose to ignore the fact that Dom didn’t seem to even flinch at the mention of Orlando’s name and that it was obviously very normal for him to call a tabby cat by their missing friend’s name. If Dom was trying to find food for… Orlando, then he was working towards the same goal as Billy. That was good enough for now.
One question remained, though: what did Orlando… what did a cat eat for breakfast? A question which had apparently also occurred to Elijah.
“Viggo doesn’t have a cat.”
“So?”
“So you can stop searching now, Dom, you won’t find any cat food.”
If Billy had found Elijah’s earlier glare deadly, Dom’s sudden snarl was definitely just as menacing. Even the cat… even Orlando seemed to think so as he suddenly stopped mewling and cowered under the table at Billy’s feet.
“I’m not bloody well giving cat food to Orlando!”
“Why not? He’s a fucking cat!”
“He’s Orlando, you cunt!”
“We don’t know that for sure, Dom. But he’s definitely a cat. Give him some milk and I’ll go grocery shopping after breakfast.”
“Fuck you, Elijah!”
“Ah. Well, since we’re on the subject of fucking. You are aware that zoophiles are gross and they’re perverts, and that it’s all very wrong on many many levels, right?”
At that point in the conversation, Billy wasn’t sure he still knew what was weirder: Dom and Elijah shouting and hissing at each other, accusing each other of sins Billy had never even heard of, or Orlando’s claws—Orlando’s claws—digging insistently into his ankle. Billy already had scratched fingers, he wasn’t about to lose a foot as well. He got up and walked around the table to the counter, trying not to step on a tail or a paw, and grabbed a bowl, hastily pouring milk into it before bending down and putting it on the floor by the sink. He might have been just as reluctant as Dom about giving soggy cat food to a pet they all thought had once been a tall dark haired actor, but milk couldn’t hurt. Orlando as a human had liked milk well enough.
Surprisingly, Orlando made one lousy cat.
Given the faith millions of fans had in Orlando’s catlike grace, Billy was a little surprised when their new pet turned out to be the clumsiest feline Billy had ever seen. Admittedly, watching the cat seek out the highest, most dangerous places to climb did a lot to convince Billy this really wasn’t a joke. Not that cats didn’t—to the best of Billy’s knowledge—seek out trees and high shelves and other places to jump on top of, but really, he’d never seen a cat that eager to find a way to the top of a ceiling chandelier.
The climbing wasn’t the worst part, though. The coming down off of high places was what managed to pretty much convince Billy they really were dealing with a kitty version of Orlando. It also made Billy tremendously relieved at the thought that Orlando had always practised his extreme sports properly and very safely harnessed.
Billy had heard it repeatedly: no matter how high you dropped them from, cats always landed back on their feet. He wasn’t sure it was scientifically proven, but he was pretty certain he’d never seen a cat jump from a table and gracelessly fall on its side, slide on the polished floor for a few seconds, before finally righting itself up and dizzily walking off.
Orlando didn’t seem to be able to jump to the floor from anywhere, and land onto his four paws.
“It’s a good thing Peter never saw him fall that clumsily off a chair, man.”
Elijah had taken to pointing out every single clumsy stumble with what sounded suspiciously like glee to Billy. Billy wasn’t sure whether Orlando could still hear and understand them when they spoke, but he didn’t think Elijah was being very nice. Billy could almost have sworn that Elijah was jealous of Orlando, had it not sounded extremely unlikely that anybody with a little common sense could envy someone else for having turned into a cat.
Elijah did usually have a lot of common sense.
“Seriously, how fucked up is that? The guy turns into a cat and he can’t even act like one.”
“Elijah…”
“Well, it’s true! I’ve never seen such a stupid fucking clumsy cat before!”
Billy would have protested, told Elijah off for bad-mouthing a friend, but then a crash was heard somewhere in the house, and a big red ball of scared fur came running—skidding frantically on the hardwood floor—and crashed right into the door next to the sofa.
Despite all of Orlando’s supposedly catlike grace, Elijah might actually have had a point.
Orlando’s clumsiness did not however explain why Elijah was being so nastily jealous, nor why Orlando seemed to delight in scratching Billy’s feeding hand whenever he could. If anything, Billy kind of thought that was mightily ungrateful.
Billy was confused. Confused and upset, and yes, annoyed because he still couldn’t make up his mind about believing things or dismissing them as a stupid prank. But Billy wouldn’t have thought of taking any of his frustrations out on a poor little tabby. Elijah apparently didn’t have the same scruples.
Orlando had always been very touchy-feely, and despite all the sighs and groans, none of his friends actually minded when he casually draped himself all over them and nuzzled their cheeks. Billy personally found it rather endearing, and if one took into consideration that particular outrageous incident on the red carpet during a London premiere, Billy was pretty sure Elijah had never minded either.
Now. What could be cuddlier than Orlando if not a cat version of him? Then why wasn’t Elijah purring along with Dom, scratching at the cat’s ears and loving every minute of it?
What was even more puzzling to Billy was that he often walked in on Elijah and Orlando curled up on the couch, looking for all intents and purposes like they were talking—or meowing, as was the case. But as soon as Elijah would notice Billy’s presence, he’d push the cat off his lap and snort at the poor thing’s ungraceful fall. Orlando would then proceed to get off his rear with as much dignity as he could gather, walk past Billy’s legs, send a fully clawed paw out and scratch Billy’s ankle on his way out.
As a result, Billy never got any cuddling time with Orlando whenever Elijah was around, and Elijah seemed to be around Billy constantly. Had Billy been the suspicious type, he might even have interpreted Elijah’s constant derogatory comments about cat Orlando as another way of keeping Orlando out of the room and away from Billy.
But then, how would that explain anything? And again, why was Orlando so scratchy-feely with Billy? It all simply made no sense. Though given their current predicament, Billy didn’t think it really mattered that yet another thing remained unexplained.
One thing that didn’t change at all with Orlando being a cat was his complete disregard for personal space. If anything, Orlando grew even more annoying in his systematic invasion of his friends’ privacy.
The day Billy walked out of the shower and into his room—already pulling the towel off—to find cat Orlando sitting on his bed, eyes wide and predatory, he decided it was time to invest in some sort of cat-repulsing stuff. He’d heard about something you could spray on fences and such, to keep cats from digging holes into your garden, and he wondered if the smell would be too foul or if he could maybe use it to keep Orlando out of his clean laundry. When the cat on his bed started unconcernedly licking his rear paw and rubbing it behind his ear, while Billy struggled to retrieve the towel from the floor and wrap it around his waist again, he decided that no matter how much he’d loved Orlando as a human being, he wasn’t about to let a bloody cat rule the house like it was no big deal that they all thought he’d once been perfectly human.
To be honest, Billy would have had to admit he still didn’t quite believe the whole thing was real, anyway. Here they were, four—well, three, really—tight friends, on a week off at another friend’s ranch, trying to have fun and get as much lazing around as possible before hitting rush hour in their respective schedules, and all of a sudden, they were talking to a cat and treating a big red ball of fur as some kind of equal. Whether Orlando really had turned into a tabby, or whether he was going to walk through the front door any minute, laughing his ass off at a perfect prank and their gullibility, Billy was nevertheless going to put as much of a stop to the whole insanity as he could.
What got to Billy the most, though, was the fact that after three days of gritting his teeth every time a too sharp claw dug into his thigh, or walking into a room to find the once hanging potted plants on the floor and cat Orlando trying to shake off dirt and leaves, or being unable to watch TV from the really comfy chair Viggo’d gotten from a garage sale for fear of pissing off a fur ball who’d already decided this chair was to be his and his only when he’d still been a boy… even after three days of this—and no matter what Dom said, none of this would ever be normal—Billy was still the only one to be surprised every time he walked into Orlando’s bedroom and couldn’t find anybody else but Dom sprawled out on top of the duvet, cat purring happily on his chest.
Even Elijah wasn’t so adamant in his jealousy anymore. Maybe because taking out all of his frustration on a harmless pet had finally struck Elijah as slightly less coherent and mature than he’d been trying to appear to everybody since he’d shaved his hair off. Billy wasn’t any closer to understanding why Elijah had been so jealous of the cat in the first place, though, nor why he still seemed to be whenever he was around Billy, and Billy was expressing concern over open doors and windows and cats ending up as road kill daily.
All in all, Billy just really thought it wasn’t fair. He’d been an adult too long, despite the dreams and the acting, and the fact that his best friends were still much closer to childhood than he’d been in a very long time. There was no way in hell he could simply take it all in stride, agree to share a house with an overly affectionate cat and understand how all of a sudden it was ok to believe in people waking up as animals, or why there was anything to be jealous of in that fact.
Mostly, Billy just thought it wasn’t fair that Orlando was the cat, and Billy was still the one spitting out fur balls constantly.
Out of the three of them, Dom was the one who seemed to be the most at ease with the situation. He hadn’t freaked out at all, and even though he still snarled at Elijah when Elijah sounded too nasty, he was the only one of them who could keep them all grounded.
Billy couldn’t make up his mind about what he was ready to believe, and watching the cat sprawl out on his back, all four paws in the air and white furry tummy shamelessly exposed, he kept thinking about what ifs…
What if this really were Orlando? What if they left a door open too long, one day, and the bloody stupid git got out and got lost? What if a neighbour’s dog managed to put its grimy paws and slimy fangs on that spotless white tummy and left Orlando with a few more scars to add to his collection?
Billy had never realized he could be as much of a worrier as Astin. He’d never been wild and funny like Dom, never been adventurous and crazy like Orlando, never been bouncy and overeager like Elijah… but he’d certainly never been as anally-retentive as Sean.
Billy worried a lot about Orlando, though.
Every time Billy walked into a room, he instinctively looked for the cat, and for any trace of carelessness in leaving ways out wide open for Orlando to escape. Billy also woke up every morning and battled nausea in order to pour canned stinky stuff into Orlando’s bowl, before he’d even had coffee.
According to Dom, this was just Billy’s way of coping, since even Dom admitted he’d never experienced anything weirder before. And weird wasn’t all that common to Billy. Weird had never been much more than a few crazy endeavours from his friends, or a particularly hectic set, with way too many visual effects guys prodding around.
Weird had sometimes been Orlando, but this whole cat thing was bringing that to unprecedented levels.
Elijah had his own way of coping, it seemed. This incidentally provided Billy with more things to uncharacteristically worry about. Also, Billy had finally come to the conclusion that Elijah’s jealousy towards Orlando only struck when he—Billy—was around as well. It still didn’t make anything clearer, but it did make Billy feel guilty on top of worried.
As for Dom…
Billy watched as Orlando rolled over, sprawling a bit more, claws digging into Dom’s jeans. Billy winced, but when he looked up, Dom seemed to be somewhere between oblivious and blissfully happy, Billy couldn’t quite tell. He watched, fascinated, as Dom’s long fingers buried themselves in the fur, scratching idly under the jaw, eliciting even louder purring from the most hedonistic cat Billy thought he’d ever meet.
And yes, Dom really did look perfectly happy.
For a moment, there, Billy got a hint of what he supposed Elijah’s jealousy felt like. Envy clutched at his guts, as well as the sharp need to snap and push Orlando off the couch—because damn it, there was enough cat hair everywhere to choke Viggo’s vacuum, and anyway, cat hair and claw marks were bound to make Viggo regret lending his house to them for a few days.
For a moment there, Billy found himself wishing so hard for some of Dom’s light heartedness, that it left him reeling from the sudden burst of anger, leaving him wide eyed and breathless, looking helplessly on as cat Orlando opened his tiny little mouth and started licking Dom’s fingers eagerly.
There was a purr from the cat and a blissful sigh from Dom, and Billy suddenly blushed, feeling strangely out of place, maybe even like a voyeur, not to mention ashamed at having found himself nurturing less than philanthropic thoughts towards Orlando. He looked up at Elijah, expecting to find him blushing embarrassedly as well, or at least trying to avert his eyes from Orlando and Dom, but was startled to find Elijah’s strangely intense gaze set firmly on him. He blushed further—feeling caught—and turned his attention back to the TV, still feeling Elijah’s eyes on his neck. On the couch next to them, Dom started purring along with Orlando and Billy dug himself deeper into the cushions.
Dom, it seemed, didn’t need to find a way to cope at all.
By the time he’d been redirected to imdb.com for the umpteenth time, Billy was ready to throw Elijah’s laptop out of the window. How many bloody films were there about murderous cat people, anyway? And why was it that in all of those stupid shows Elijah and Dom loved so much, one only had to type “big gross green demon” to find out very valuable information and help the heroin rid the world of its latest plague?
Well, obviously, this was all a case of media misinformation. And maybe the fact that the girls on these shows were called Buffy, Willow, and whatever else, should have clued Billy in on the fact that all of it, down to the last detail, was just made up. The internet was a big useless void of uninteresting knowledge.
Billy shuddered as he read yet another summary about innocent virgins turning into dangerous throat-slitting felines at night. Not the kind of reassurance he’d been looking for, here. Really, the fact that Orlando had turned into a tabby was more than enough to still be freaking him out after five days of cutting his fingers on cans of cat food. Billy didn’t need the added images brought to him in Technicolor of Orlando sending a paw out, all claws visible, and slitting Dom’s throat in his sleep.
He tried clicking on a few more links, cursing under his breath as more images of Nastassja Kinski and big black panthers filled the screen. Of course, Orlando chose that time to appear out of nowhere and jump on top of the mouse pad, trapping the mouse and Billy’s hand under him in the process. Billy’s sudden panicked shriek didn’t seem to faze the cat at all.
Billy withdrew his hand gingerly, but the mouse remained trapped under Orlando’s furry bottom. The tabby didn’t even move, and Billy groaned as windows started popping up and down on the screen in front of him.
“Look, you bloody stupid nuisance, I’m looking for ways to help you out, here. So get off, ok?”
The cat lifted a disinterested eye to Billy’s pissed off frown, then went back to intently licking his paw. Orlando had always been very keen on having perfectly manicured hands.
Billy glared.
“I suppose you’re going to say you told me so?”
The cat turned to his other paw, ignoring Billy and his attempt at getting the mouse back. There was obviously no way of shoving Orlando off the mouse pad without pushing the mouse to the floor as well. Billy would have tried the laptop’s own touch board, but of course, it wasn’t working at all. Elijah had mumbled something about ketchup and fries, and Billy had cringed at the stickiness. He’d avoided touching anything else but the mouse and a few keys since.
Billy looked from the screen to Orlando, back to the screen again, and shrugged. Not like it had been a fruitful search so far. He held his hand out to the Tabby and waited. Orlando looked up, watched the hand draw nearer and started sniffing at it cautiously. Billy snorted.
“Oh, right, like you’re the one who should be worried about where my fingers have been. Hullo, pot? Kettle on line three. You do realize you’ve been licking your own ass for nearly a week, now?”
Billy could have been mistaken, but the soft purr that the cat gave in answer sounded suspiciously like a snort. Still, Billy drew his hand closer and soon found himself cautiously petting red fur. Due mainly to Elijah’s repeated attempts at keeping them apart, Billy hadn’t yet felt bold enough to pet cat Orlando. He’d petted boy Orlando a lot, though. He’d blamed it mostly on the hair. Orlando had grown it for his role as one of these manly pirates with girlishly long hair, and Dom, Elijah and Billy had teased him endlessly about it, tugging on it delightfully and calling him Legolette.
And yes, they all had the maturity of a 12 year old.
The truth, though, was that Billy had missed it. As he grew bolder and started scratching behind Orlando’s ear, Billy felt a surge of sudden relief. He lowered his face to the cat’s level, rested his cheek softly against the table and watched as Orlando purred, head pushing against Billy’s hand, shamelessly asking to be petted and loved. So much like boy Orlando, that. Billy really had missed it more than he’d cared to admit.
“Oi, Orlando.” Billy’s voice was so low, so hushed; he almost didn’t hear himself calling out his friend’s name. And what was he doing trying to talk to a cat, anyway? He’d been the last one standing, the last one to still mumble and grumble at breakfast, cussing a blue streak at Orlando for playing a mean joke and making them take care of his annoying pet, so what was he trying to prove by calling said cat by his supposed name?
Maybe just that believing weirder things could happen might be a step in the right direction. Whether Orlando had cameras around the house, watching them deal and waiting for Billy to cave in and treat the cat as a friend, or whether Orlando really had turned into a pet, denial probably wasn’t the right approach. As far as Billy knew, denial was never the right approach, even if usually the most likely one for people to take. That and obliviousness.
Billy tapped his finger lightly behind the cat’s ear and tried to look deep into yellow eyes. “I miss you, you stupid bugger. Come back, ok? Oh, and while we’re at it, I get it that you’re trying to tell me something, but could you stop scratching my hands and legs and wait until you can talk again to say whatever you have to say?”
The day Orlando came back—turned back—felt disappointedly anti-climactic to Billy.
It was late morning, there had been heavy drinking the night before and rather unsurprisingly, Billy had been the first one up. The only one up so far, even. He’d already made coffee, raided the cupboards for toast and any leftover cereal, and poured stinky stuff in Orlando’s bowl. When the others had failed to show up, and when even the cat had seemed to be missing, Billy had made his way back upstairs to try and look for any casualties. For all he remembered, Elijah could have fallen asleep on the toilet seat, and Dom could have been passed out in the linen closet. It might be a nice thing as a friend to try and wake them up before either of them ended up with a nasty crick in their neck.
Billy felt his motives had been charitable enough to justify his standing at Dom’s bedroom door, peering in and simply checking on whoever was inside. The fact that Billy was here only out of concern and the fact that Dom’s door had been open, made Billy feel less like a voyeur. After all, if standing next to the door, shoulder smashed against the corridor wall in order to be able to press his eye to the slit between door and frame made Billy able to see the two very naked bodies curled around one another on the bed, it undoubtedly meant that Dom had left his door open on purpose… well, ajar, really. Still…
Billy couldn’t see all that much anyway. Just enough to be able to say that 1) Orlando was back, 2) he’d probably turned back some time during the night, which explained the lack of clothes, and 3)… well, 3) Dom was naked and there didn’t seem to be any reason for that other than the fact that Orlando was closely wrapped around him and that Dom had probably been too hot and had needed to push away clothes and sheets at some point after Orlando had turned back.
It almost made sense.
There was also the other plausible explanation for this which held the added merit of explaining most of the numerous accusations Elijah had thrown at Dom over the week. In Billy’s opinion, the whole thing didn’t technically make a zoophile out of Dom, but it did explain Elijah’s point of view.
At any rate, since Orlando was back, things could start feeling normal again. Billy was going to start by throwing away the stinky food he’d poured for cat Orlando earlier that morning. And if he never saw another can of it in his entire life, it would be wonderful.
“They’re disgustingly cute, aren’t they?”
Billy jumped and barely contained his shriek. “Elijah! Jeez! Don’t creep up on me like that! Ow, my heart.”
Elijah grinned, looked at Dom’s door then at Billy again and raised a questioning eyebrow. As far as Billy could tell, from where he was standing, Elijah couldn’t see inside. The raised eyebrow and the “cute” comment did however leave him with no doubt as to what Elijah already knew. Maybe he’d known even longer than Billy, who’d really only known for a little over five minutes.
Denial and obliviousness, Billy thought. “Yes, they’re disgustingly cute.” He shrugged and smiled back, watching as a cloud seemed to pass over Elijah’s face.
“D’you think it’ll happen again?”
“What?”
“One of us. Turning into a pet. D’you think it’ll happen again?”
Billy thought it wasn’t likely. Then again, it hadn’t been likely before, and yet.
There was something in Elijah’s eyes, though, something that held Billy’s tongue. A sparkle, some trace of jealousy, or maybe just hope, Billy couldn’t quite tell. “Why? You want to eat cat food for every meal for a week, too?”
It sounded perfectly ludicrous to Billy. He knew Elijah had spent most of his week pouting, apparently envying Orlando for some obscure reason, but Billy really didn’t understand it. He didn’t see what was so wonderful about turning into a household pet. He certainly wasn’t ready for anything like that to happen again, neither to him, nor to any of his friends. He’d dealt with the Orlando situation as best he could, but he really didn’t think he’d be able to deal with Elijah waking up as… a pet hamster, for example.
“I don’t know, Bill. Doesn’t look like it was such a bad thing for Orlando.”
Right. Well, there was that. It indeed seemed like Orlando’s week as a cat had managed to make both Dom and Orlando realize what they’d been missing.
Elijah smiled. “And you know I’d make a good pet.”
It was Billy’s turn to raise a questioning eyebrow at Elijah’s wistful tone. “You are serious.” And yes, Elijah was, he could tell. Billy smiled at him again before turning back to the door and sneaking one last look at the two sleeping forms on Dom’s bed. Naked skin and tangled curls, and Dom’s sleepy hand petting Orlando’s curves.
A flash of what could have happened had Elijah been the one to turn into a cat went through Billy’s mind and he frowned. Yes, he could finally see why Elijah had seemed so jealous, but still… it hadn’t been just the cat part that had driven Dom to taking such good care of Orlando, to the point of ending up in bed with the real thing. Something told Billy that had Elijah been the one to turn into a pet, Dom wouldn’t have been dotting on him the way he’d dotted on Orlando. Then what was Elijah hoping for?
“Bill? You’d take care of me if I turned into a cat, yeah?”
Billy stilled, back still turned to Elijah, and held his breath. Denial and obliviousness, he thought again. And apparently, he’d been very good at both.
Billy turned back to Elijah, then, and reached out, smiling wider when Elijah tilted his head forward to allow Billy’s hand better access to pet what Dom and Orlando had affectionately dubbed “Lij’s bald spot.” Maybe more things were finally making sense than Billy had realized at first…
“You know, Lij, you’d make a pretty kitty, too.”
Billy could have been mistaken, of course, but the moan that came from Elijah sounded suspiciously like a purr.
THE END
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That was so incredibly cute! I adore it. It left a huge smile on my face. Absolutely lovely!
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I don't know how to pick out what I liked about it, though. I hate that, when I can't 'put out' feedback wise.
I loved Billy's interior voice, how he swung between 'yeah, ok this is reality' and 'no, no way, can't be'. I was amused at Elijah's hissy fit, and Dom was so great, so easy-going and accepting.
Am crap at feedback.
But I thought this was great fun.
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You are so not. You've just made my day and made me feel really relieved, because that stupid story has been giving me headaches for months, now, and I really got to the point where I couldn't tell whether it was funny and sweet or just plain ridiculous. So thank you for reading it, and your feedback was lovely. *hugs*
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“Oh, right, like you’re the one who should be worried about where my fingers have been. Hullo, pot? Kettle on line three. You do realize you’ve been licking your own ass for nearly a week, now?”
God, this line is hilarious. I can't stop giggling. Hope no one walks in on me!
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And hehehehe, well, yes, I thought that line was funny, too. :-) Happy to see I wasn't the only one. *grins*
Again, thank you!
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Sorry, that sounds snotty, and I don't mean it to. I really loved your story and thank you very much for sharing it.
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And hahaha, Elijah as a Jack Russell terrier, yes, definitely. I don't think I'd be able to imagine Elijah as anything else but a puppy anyway. And as for Billy, I've thought about this, and yes, gerbil makes sense. He always made me think of a cute little mouse.
But thanks for reading and commenting, and no, you didn't sound snotty, you made me laugh. *grins* Thank you.
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excuse me, i have to go and piss myself laughing. :D
btw, you do know that "orlando the marmalade cat" featured in a popular series of kids' books written by kathleen hale in the 40s/50s....??
love,
n.x :)
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And by the way, no, I did not know about Orlando the marmaled cat. I'm thinking it's probably because it was a popular series in another country than mine... but now, I am intrigued.
And thanks again for reading and replying!