𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐒 2008

A Star and a Stray Cat (2/2)

A Star and a Stray Cat Part 2 of 2

That afternoon Draco crawled out from under the cat, whose black-tipped tail flicked at the disturbance, and retired to the shower down the hall.

When he returned, wrapped up in a single, thin towel—they didn't even have robes for the guests!—Tufts sat up and looked at him.

Draco stalled his movements, something about that look… And then seeping through their connection, entirely inappropriate feelings. Tufts crouched low on the bed and took a precise step closer.

"Tufts… Potter! What the hell?" he asked, but the lynx dropped down to the floor and continued to prowl towards him. "Potter, if I didn't know better, I'd get the feeling you fancied me." He would try for a joke, snap the man out of this folly. Perhaps he'd been having a dream about his wife and was confused by his unfamiliar surroundings.

Hmm, Draco. Mine.

"What! I'm not yours. You already have someone. What about your wife?! Ginny?" Reason did not stop Tufts; he had Draco backed up against the door, the cold wood chilling his shoulder blades even as the smoldering feelings heated his skin.

Ginny, my mate. Mother of cubs. Tufts stopped and sat down, a look of contemplation on his feline face. Family. Not… His ears went back and he growled.

"Potter…" Draco tried to inch his way along the wall away from Potter, but the cat lunged forward, pressing his face to Draco's crotch and sniffed. Draco squeaked like a virgin maiden, though his body reacted in ways his brain most assuredly hadn't told it to.

Want you.

Regaining some sense, Draco pushed the cat's head away and ran to the open area of the small room. His eyes darted from one corner of the room to the next. Where had he put his wand? Then he saw it, over by his un-shrunk luggage. On the other side of Potter.

"You can't want me, you're married. Happily, I might add. You're a cat Potter! Stop giving in to instinct."

Always wanted you. Ask Ginny. Tufts remained sitting, watching Draco, eyes thin slits of intensity. Draco couldn't help but notice that Tufts' penis had extended, pink and glistening.

"Merlin, Potter. Control yourself. You. Are. A. Cat. Doesn't do much for me." And it was true, though he certainly had harbored his own fantasies of Potter, flashes from his dissident brain after school and even in the early years of his marriage. One of those many 'irreconcilable' differences.

Ginny knows. Ginny other. You. Want you. And then an overwhelming surge of sorrow and loss and unfulfilled desire practically knocked Draco to the floor.

"I see, Potter. But forget it. You're married. And a cat." Tufts huffed, but seemed to pull himself together as he sank to the floor, resigned and sad. "Maybe," Draco started, watching the cat keenly, "we can talk about this after… after you are human again." But did he want to? And why bother reassuring the man? To avoid a funk? And did he really want to entertain the idea of something with Potter? Harry? The man who had everything?

But obviously, he didn't have everything.

Draco turned away and shyly got dressed, sure he could feel Potter's beady cat eyes on his backside the entire time. But when he turned around, fully clothed, Tufts was turned away, lying down facing the far corner.