Title: "To
Dote"
Author: O. S. Acious (needs to be brick'd.)
Rating: Hardcore
R!
Genre: Yaoi (see: Warnings), PWP.
Pairing:
Tigger/Roo, Rabbit/Tigger (implied.)
Warnings: Mindfuck.
Pure, brilliant crack, a bit of angst (because if it's me there has
to be.) And of course homosexuality, pedophilia, and general
"squick." Also beware major OOC-ness and canon killing. (Intense
fluff, too.) PLEASE don't kill me if you can read the fanfiction
but cannot manage to see this warning. That said you may shoot me
when you are done (after you read this willingly, of course) as I believe I truly need a quick bullet to the
head. Not at all brain-safe.
Summary: (There can be
no summary for this mindfuck.) It is the eve of Roo's
birthday and Tigger has a special present in mind.
Disclaimer:
Please, I'm afraid "Winnie the Pooh" would have a very
different plot if I owned it. I am merely using Disney to wreak havoc
on young innocent minds.
('dOt) v. doted, doting. 1. to lavish excessive love or fondness –used especially with 'on' (doted on his only son) . 2. to exhibit mental decline of or like that of old age: be in one's dotage. –dot'er n.
-
It rained in the Hundred Acre Woods the night before young Roo's birthday as the young kangaroo watched from indoors; he stared out the irregularly shaped windows in childish dismay in anticipation of Tigger's arrival. It was far too dark to see clearly through the raindrops and the storm clouds and even if the weather cooperated, Roo would not see the man bouncing down the road –a flash of orange and black stripes.
"Roo, dear, why don't you close the shutters now; the rain is going to get in," Kanga's voice came from the kitchen.
"But mama, Tigger said he would come for dinner today," the little kangaroo whined as he sullenly, but surely, withdrew.
"Tonight, dear. And yes, I didn't forget," corrected Kanga as she bustled around in the adjacent room.
There was a stale silence broken by a bolt of lightning and the mother's voice.
"I didn't hear those shutters close, dear."
Just like she expected there was a miniature cacophony –a chorus of slam! SLAM! - as Roo hurriedly closed the shutters to the rage of the storm outside and hopped off the couch with a plop. Tigger was now five minutes late and the kangaroo thumped his tail worriedly against the smooth wood floor.
Kanga could be heard walking out of the kitchen and soon she appeared in the living room drying her hands on her pink apron and sighing. Roo stood nervously, head down, arms behind his back, and one foot drawing circles on the ground as his mother wrapped him in a warm hug.
"Mama," Roo began hesitantly, "do you think Tigger is going to come?" The child's voice was hushed and doubtful; as if he was asking a completely different question and Kanga could only smile as she held him closer against the apron.
"Of course he will, dear; Tigger is always such a brave and trustworthy man, I'm sure he'll come eat dinner with us. He wouldn't ever forget you."
Roo tilted his head up and opened one eye slowly. "R-really, mama?"
Kanga laughed gently and good-naturedly, "of course, silly!" Her son immediately cheered up, a look of innocent joy flew over his face. "Now you go wait upstairs in your bedroom as I go make dinner and I'll call you to set the table when I'm done, okay?"
"Okay, mama!" he returned and hopped up to kiss his mother on her cheek before taking off, completely convinced that his hero would be here for the evening meal.
-
Tigger arrived not but 15 minutes later under the little outcrop of a roof sustained by battered, paint-chipping, decorative over-door roof supports.
"I keep forgetting to duck," Tigger said in his funny voice when Kanga opened the door, Roo right behind her.
"Come in, Mr. Tigger," she invited and Tigger came in out of the cold still rubbing his head. His fur was matted down and he was soaked from head to toe. Noticing this, Roo immediately fetched a towel from the bathroom down the hall and returned just as quickly as he was gone.
"Here, Tigger! Dry yourself off!" Roo exclaimed, bouncing around the older man.
"Thanks buddy," Tigger politely returned, ruffling the top of Roo's head and proceeded to do what the boy had advised: dry off.
"We have dinner done now; hope you like salad Mr. Tigger," Kanga helpfully offered. "Rabbit's harvest this year was really wonderful, wasn't it?"
Tigger abruptly stopped rubbing his fur, paused and looked to the floor before beaming up at Kanga and replying: "That sounds scrumptious!"
-
The man had a way with children and Roo was a most excitable kid, for his age. Kanga saw how the two bounced around the other; Tigger was like the father Roo never had and Tigger never turned the boy down or said any word against him. He was kind and polite; he knew his table manners but knew how to have fun even better; he paid attention to everything in life, was bright and optimistic but never, ever, looked Kanga in the eye; he said Mrs. Roo and paid attention to her baby boy.
And Roo was a most excitable kid who felt doted on when someone merely remembered his name. Mrs. Roo saw how the two bounced around the other and didn't know quite what to make of it all.
At the table, when he declined second servings and Roo encouraged him to eat more of "mama's good cooking" he had stared at Roo with an uneasy smile and changed his mind.
"What's that smell, Mrs. Roo?"
Kanga paused in her thoughts and sniffed around –her eyes soon widened and she dropped her fork and ran for the oven.
"My pie!"
Roo chewed his mouthful of salad slowly and looked from his mother to Tigger who whispered into his ear: "at least we avoided a fire." Roo giggled, covered his mouth, and coyly looked at Tigger who immediately seemed to have lost his appetite. Neither of them spoke though the eerie silence was broken for them.
"Oh, it's ruined! Ruined!" Kanga bemoaned from the kitchen. The two broke eye contact and watched as Kanga dumped a charred-looking pie into the trash.
"Mama? Mama, Tigger and I are both…full. You don't have to worry about the apple pie, mama," comforted Roo, tentatively. The young kangaroo slid out of his green, wooden chair and played with his shirt sleeve with Tigger following his example.
"No, no, no, Roo. Mr. Tigger likes apple pie and I make one every time he visits and no over-cooking is going to get in the way of that," Kanga returned as she grabbed her apron off the hook she had hung it up on and began her efforts anew.
"Tigger," she addressed the man as she worked, "you wouldn't be planning on returning home in this awful weather, would you?"
Tigger opened his mouth to answer but wasn't given a chance as Roo reached for his hand and spoke for him. "Mama, he can stay for the night, can't he? It's pouring out there."
Almost as if to illustrate the boy's point, there was a loud rumbling of thunder and a flash of lightning which Roo used as an excuse to simply squeeze the life out of Tigger's hand. The older man squeezed back.
Kanga sighed as she searched the drawers for her rolling pin, "Well, why don't you both go upstairs and read a book or something, and when it's done we can have dessert a bit later than usual. I suppose Tigger could room with you, dear."
Squeeze, squeeze, and Roo's breath caught. "Okay, mama," he stammered out before half-dragging, half being-dragged off up to his own room.
-
Roo didn't know what do say when he found himself in his cozy bedroom with Tigger, of all people! He worshipped the guy; he truly did and really could not have been happier when he saw the man hopping over despite the strong wind and all the rain.
"Oh, Tigger, thanks so much for coming over," he began though he wanted to say something really, really cool to amaze his friend. He wanted to say how he could bounce five inches higher and how he was going to be just like Tigger when he grew up –just like him.
"No problem, Roo-buddy," Tigger replied with less of an enthusiastic return but still with the same warmth in his smile; his eyes still looked wet from the rain.
The kangaroo shuffled about knowing that the much older man probably had read every book he owned and besides the one little bookshelf and the dresser, the only thing in his room was his…bed. "Umm…Tigger…"
"So, do you know how Rabbit is growing tiger lilies this year?" Roo quickly came up with, wrangling with himself about how he was just embarrassing himself.
Good-natured Tigger kept up appearances though his eyes dimmed in inner turmoil and Roo noticed him looking to the left, dodging the question as if it meant something. "Funny ol'Rabbit," he muttered, and shifted his weight to his other foot. Roo gulped and tried to start conversation again, not daring to ask why something felt so different; he padded over to his bed and plopped himself down, noticing that Tigger's eyes followed him the entire time. And it felt magical.
"Hey, Tigger, why don't you have a seat? We sort of moved the spare chair down for dinner but there's always the…bed," young Roo said nervously. He thought he saw Tigger about to decline so he quickly patted the spot next to him on the rickety wood bed with his name carved in it. "C-come on, Tigger! You still need to tell me what I'm getting for my birthday!"
The other man calmed down, noticeably, and shook his head from side to side, "Hoo-hoo!" he whistled. "I was wonderin' when you'd ask, buddy." A change had come over him and when he sat down next to the young kangaroo, Roo could feel his old pal back again and instinctively scooted closer to cuddle against Tigger.
"So, what is it?"
-
Tigger smiled down on the brown-haired Roo with the sickest feeling against himself and intense desire for his smaller friend whose mother was just downstairs. "I'll give you…anything you want." He didn't feel like bracing himself and the words felt right in the moment.
"Anything?" Roo's voice came with an adorable child-like wonder and amazement. Tigger smiled, his eyes closed as he hugged the kangaroo.
"Yep, anything," he repeated.
The familiar warmth left him and Tigger felt himself leaning in as Roo pulled away; he pulled himself back sharply feeling guilty of a most horrific crime.
"Then," the young child's expression misleadingly serious and mature, "tell me why it is that I like you so much. And why you squeezed my hand. And why I feel all funny inside."
The words nearly killed him as the young boy said them and then grabbed hold of his left paw and brought it up to his small, youthful face and, God, if Rabbit saw this, kissed it.
"Do you feel this way too, Tigger?"
He felt himself swallowing hard on his words, on his bile, and on his pride to respond with honesty. "Buddy? Roo? Yeah, Roo. Yeah, I do."
The young child's eyes shone at this and they showed both intense admiration and his own guilty face mirrored as he gazed into them.
"Really? Then tell me how this is different from how I love my mama. Did my daddy feel this way? Do you love me?"
Tigger coughed hoarsely, pulled his hand back, and moved the barest inch further from the kid. He felt shocked, he felt like there was too much to contain and that there was a Pooh bear tapping around, poking around and trying to get him to spill something.
And then the dam broke.
Roo didn't get to get another word in as suddenly, wordlessly –it happened; like a dream, it happened.
And Tigger pounced.
Roo feel backward against his comfy pillow with Tigger right above him with the most wretched look across his face that came closer, closer, and ever closer and he told himself to keep his eyes open and relax as Tigger began kissing him. Roo didn't laugh though Tigger's whiskers tickled him, or when his teeth began nipping at his cheek and smothering his entire face in kisses.
"Ah!" he called softly as Tigger shifted above him and brought his arms above his head. Roo didn't kick, didn't try to get away since he felt like something was being fulfilled.
But his cries were enough to make Tigger squeeze shut his eyes and continue his tortuous ministrations all over the rest of his young body.
Roo's breathing became harsher as his heart sped up dangerously and he turned his head so Tigger could better lick the other side of his neck, nuzzle against him and nibble on his –Ah! - ear.
"T-t-tigger," he managed pitifully, "is this, this what p-people do when they l-love each other?"
Roo felt the older man stop, the emptiness enough to kill him but Tigger came back down, let go of his arms and simply took the time to admire the young kangaroo breathless on the bed.
"Yeah, Roo. It means I…love you. Very much." And he sank back down, carefully removing the boy's blue sweater and tossing it off to the side. Now Roo lay underneath him, vulnerable, too trusting, and wanting it.
Closing his eyes again, Tigger kissed Roo slowly, sliding in his tongue and feeling Roo respond slowly but surely. But surely. And Roo was quick to use his hands to pull him closer down so that Tigger practically was lying right on top of him, the both of them panting but managing to keep the noise down to a minimum. Kanga was downstairs still and oh, it would mean he could never do this again if she caught him. Never ever hold the boy in his arms and have to deal with Rabbit who simply didn't attract him the way young, innocent Roo did with his wisdom beyond his age.
"Love you," he murmured into Roo's soft ear. Underneath him, Roo shivered and arched into him.
And it was soon all over just as fast as it had, strangely, begun with Tigger wishing 'Happy Birthday' as he came.
-
Kanga smiled and bumbled around serving slices of pie despite the outrageous time.
"And, oh, I think this may be my best pie yet!"
"It's very good, Kanga," Tigger agreed in an even tone, making Mrs. Roo pause and stare.
"Oh, t-thanks! Have some more then," she replied modestly.
"You really outdid yourself, mama!"
"Oh, good! When you boys finish up I'll have some blankets set out on the floor and you two can pretend to be camping, or something."
She kissed the top of Roo's head. "'Hope this year will be a good birthday for you, Roo dear."
Roo looked up at her with no-longer jaded eyes that knew everything it had ever wanted to know –his doting friend/lover/more- and told her, "Oh, it already is."
-
Author Notes Upon Completion: HAHAHA! WHAT CRACKISH FUN! –Is shot for poor writing ability and producing crack-
EDIT: I wish I could use strike-out in many places but it appears FFN gets stricter every year. For those who have me on author alert, I am thinking of posting elsewhere as this site annoys the...things...out of me. This is just here because FFN brings in the traffic. And I want to get some flames for this.
