Post by Victor on Feb 28, 2011 23:56:01 GMT -5
Victor was sitting quietly in his den. He wasn't doing anything, just sitting. It was nice. Skimbleshanks had gone away again, and his mother no doubt would continue to ignore him, so he had peace.
Mistoffelees hummed as he walked around. Victor hadn't visited him for a few days. It was strange. They were almost always together. A frown came to his features before his face brightened up as he walked int the den. "Knock, knock," he murmured with a smile. "Hey stranger."
"Hey, Misto," Victor said. "Not out, dazzling the masses? Or embarrassing Plato?" he added, with a smirk.
"Unfortunately no. Seems the masses are out drinking." He walked across the den and sat next to Victor, nuzzling against him. "And sometimes it gets boring taunting Plato. Somehow he twists it around so everything becomes a compliment."
"Because you use big words he doesn't know," Victor said, resting his head on top of Misto's. "So he assumes they mean what he expects to hear."
"I Don't see how you can be friends with him. I don't understand how anyone can be. What good merit does he have besides appearance? Because I'd take brains over brawn every day of the week." He gave Victor's neck a little kiss.
"He means well," Victor said. "It's not like he ever intentionally upsets someone. Remember I've known him a long time, so I know everything about him. He's not just what people think." Victor paused. "Ok, a lot of him is just what people think, but that's not there point. There is more, as...hard as it is to find."
"I've known him a long time, too. And I'm sick of him calling me a faggot all the time. Ugh." He closed his eyes. "I don't see it. I know you're all close to him but I really can't see it."
"He doesn't think Faggot is mean. Which, ah...may be my fault..." Victor hesitated.
"... why?" He asked Victor, a little more tense, then.
"I, uh...referred to myself as one for a while after I slept with Coricopat."
He paused, then groaned before he flopped on his back. "Seriously? Ugh. Why? It's something only queers can say to each other and get away with."
"Well...I just did," Victor said, prodding Misto in the stomach. "Teenagers do a lot of strange things." Ignoring the fact he was not much older himself...
Misto swatted at the other, and snorted once. "I resent that. One of us is highly mature. And it's not the one I'm looking at." He stuck his tongue out playfully then.
"Bah," Victor responded, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "If you were so mature, you wouldn't be here with immature me."
"But maybe immature you won me over, hm?" Misto taunted playfully.
"Then you're immature," Victor retorted. "Or you just wanted my fabulous body."
"Well, I can't deny that your body is quite fabulous," Misto purred, hand smoothing down over Victor's chest toward the fly of his pants. "That's a perk."
"Ah, so you admit it," Victor said. He hand moved to rest on Misto's. "But not now. Not really in the mood."
Misto looked a little startled. "What'd I do wrong?" he asked, the immediate question. He shifted over the other. "What'd I do wrong?"
"Huh? Nothing," Victor said, sitting up. "I'm just not in the mood for sex."
"But you're always in the mood for sex. Always. Almost more than me. Did I get uglier?" Misto shifted back, a little bit further from the other.
"What? No! I'm not always in the mood, and I'm not now. I don't have to be."
"You don't have to be, but you almost always are! Even more so than me!" Misto snapped. "So what happens the next time and the next? What's wrong with me? Is it because I haven't let you inside me?"
"What? It's nothing to do with you! I just don't want to with anybody right now! Am I only good for fucking?" Victor demanded.
"Don't yell at me!" Misto argued, a sheen coming to his eyes, a fist bunched. "You've been avoiding me!"
"I haven't! I've been right here! You only come to me when you want sex!"
"Oh like YOU'RE one to talk! You always come around mine with your, 'fuck me, Misto!' What the hell's your problem?!"
"How about this for a change: Get the fuck out, whore!" Victor snapped, pushing Mistoffelees off him and standing up, towering over the smaller tom.
Mistoffelees hit the ground hard before he gasped as he gazed up at Victor. He cowered beneath his shadow, the tears spilling down his cheeks. Getting to his feet, he tried scooting out, tripping once on the way, not able to keep a muted cry as he ran, outside using his magic to vanish.
Victor moved further back into his den, curling up in his bedding, so nobody could hear him cry.
Mistoffelees hummed as he walked around. Victor hadn't visited him for a few days. It was strange. They were almost always together. A frown came to his features before his face brightened up as he walked int the den. "Knock, knock," he murmured with a smile. "Hey stranger."
"Hey, Misto," Victor said. "Not out, dazzling the masses? Or embarrassing Plato?" he added, with a smirk.
"Unfortunately no. Seems the masses are out drinking." He walked across the den and sat next to Victor, nuzzling against him. "And sometimes it gets boring taunting Plato. Somehow he twists it around so everything becomes a compliment."
"Because you use big words he doesn't know," Victor said, resting his head on top of Misto's. "So he assumes they mean what he expects to hear."
"I Don't see how you can be friends with him. I don't understand how anyone can be. What good merit does he have besides appearance? Because I'd take brains over brawn every day of the week." He gave Victor's neck a little kiss.
"He means well," Victor said. "It's not like he ever intentionally upsets someone. Remember I've known him a long time, so I know everything about him. He's not just what people think." Victor paused. "Ok, a lot of him is just what people think, but that's not there point. There is more, as...hard as it is to find."
"I've known him a long time, too. And I'm sick of him calling me a faggot all the time. Ugh." He closed his eyes. "I don't see it. I know you're all close to him but I really can't see it."
"He doesn't think Faggot is mean. Which, ah...may be my fault..." Victor hesitated.
"... why?" He asked Victor, a little more tense, then.
"I, uh...referred to myself as one for a while after I slept with Coricopat."
He paused, then groaned before he flopped on his back. "Seriously? Ugh. Why? It's something only queers can say to each other and get away with."
"Well...I just did," Victor said, prodding Misto in the stomach. "Teenagers do a lot of strange things." Ignoring the fact he was not much older himself...
Misto swatted at the other, and snorted once. "I resent that. One of us is highly mature. And it's not the one I'm looking at." He stuck his tongue out playfully then.
"Bah," Victor responded, leaning back with his hands behind his head. "If you were so mature, you wouldn't be here with immature me."
"But maybe immature you won me over, hm?" Misto taunted playfully.
"Then you're immature," Victor retorted. "Or you just wanted my fabulous body."
"Well, I can't deny that your body is quite fabulous," Misto purred, hand smoothing down over Victor's chest toward the fly of his pants. "That's a perk."
"Ah, so you admit it," Victor said. He hand moved to rest on Misto's. "But not now. Not really in the mood."
Misto looked a little startled. "What'd I do wrong?" he asked, the immediate question. He shifted over the other. "What'd I do wrong?"
"Huh? Nothing," Victor said, sitting up. "I'm just not in the mood for sex."
"But you're always in the mood for sex. Always. Almost more than me. Did I get uglier?" Misto shifted back, a little bit further from the other.
"What? No! I'm not always in the mood, and I'm not now. I don't have to be."
"You don't have to be, but you almost always are! Even more so than me!" Misto snapped. "So what happens the next time and the next? What's wrong with me? Is it because I haven't let you inside me?"
"What? It's nothing to do with you! I just don't want to with anybody right now! Am I only good for fucking?" Victor demanded.
"Don't yell at me!" Misto argued, a sheen coming to his eyes, a fist bunched. "You've been avoiding me!"
"I haven't! I've been right here! You only come to me when you want sex!"
"Oh like YOU'RE one to talk! You always come around mine with your, 'fuck me, Misto!' What the hell's your problem?!"
"How about this for a change: Get the fuck out, whore!" Victor snapped, pushing Mistoffelees off him and standing up, towering over the smaller tom.
Mistoffelees hit the ground hard before he gasped as he gazed up at Victor. He cowered beneath his shadow, the tears spilling down his cheeks. Getting to his feet, he tried scooting out, tripping once on the way, not able to keep a muted cry as he ran, outside using his magic to vanish.
Victor moved further back into his den, curling up in his bedding, so nobody could hear him cry.