Hey, guys! See, I haven't died. I've been fighting some writers block lately, and this kitty!Kurt drabble is what came out of it. I hope you like it and if there's enough call for it, I might continue more in this 'verse. And never fear, the next installment of ICY is coming up!


Sometimes, like now, Kurt can see the young man watching him.

He doesn't know why. He knew that there was nothing special about him, nothing important. His hair and fur near his ears was matted and dirty, and he had given up trying to clean his tail. He was thin, scrawny even, because not everyone was kind to a hybrid with no collar. And with the current rain seeping through the roof of the box he's currently huddled under, he knew that he was a mess.

And yet the boy stared.

He stared at him through honey coloured eyes that held no trace of the mocking that many held. Instead, unless Kurt was delusional (which may be true, since he hadn't eaten in over two days…), it held sympathy and concern. And every time he saw the boy, something would appear. Sometimes it would be the scarf he currently wore around his neck. Sometimes it'd be food, hot steamed meat buns that made him feel warm and full inside. The very first time it was a toy mouse, something that was still clutched to his chest, wet and dirty and yet he couldn't bear to part with it because it was the first kindness someone had shown him since his father had died six months ago.

But today, there was something different about the boy. For one, the boy didn't have anything in his hands, and Kurt couldn't help feel the overwhelming feeling of disappointment that he had been trying so hard to avoid. The boy was standing straighter, his umbrella tight in his fist, his face – only a couple years younger than his seventeen year old self – was somber. Kurt couldn't take his eyes off of him. Even though he was moving closer, not stopping his usual foot away to put down whatever he was usually holding. Instead, he knelt down in front of him, and a voice that was smooth and gentle like the honey his eyes reminded Kurt of, he spoke.

"Come home with me."

Kurt could feel himself bristle, the hair on the back of his neck standing up, lips pulling back in a slight snarl. He's had guys trying to pick him up before, because everyone knows what cat hybrids are used for. Everyone knows about their heat and the fact that are primary used as sex objects, and that's it. Old men love them, young women prize then, and no one sees him. He couldn't believe that this boy would say something like this and, when the boy brings his hand closer, to adjust the scarf or touch his ears, he lashes out with his elongated nails, catching the boy across the hand.

Kurt expected a blow. He expected anger. Yelling. He expected… something to counteract his bad behaviour. He even flinched back in preparation for the blow. Instead, a soft hand that smelled vaguely of cinnamon and coffee tipped his head up, making him look into honey coloured eyes.

"It's okay, my name's Blaine. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to bring you out of the rain. I finally got my parents to agree to take you in. I have food and a warm bed for you."

Kurt stared at the boy – Blaine – as his ears flicked. Home? Food? Warm bed? His stomach rumbled, reminding him of how long it had been since he had eaten, and the very idea of warmth made him let out a tiny mewl of longing. He wanted so badly to trust Blaine, to grab what Blaine was offering him, but he heard the terrible things that were said about owners. Abuse, starvation, even rape… He was already so broken that he didn't think he would stand that.

"You don't have to stay, if you don't want, kitty. You can leave at any time. I just want to help." Blaine said soothingly, reaching out again with the hand that Kurt had scratched.

Kurt didn't say anything for a moment, before, his voice hoarse from little use, he croaked out, "Kurt."

"What?"

Kurt swallowed a couple of times, easing out from the box, edging closer to Blaine. "My name. It's Kurt."

Blaine's face broke out into a smile that made something inside of him twist, and it convinced him to place his hand inside of Blaine's.

"Nice to meet you, Kurt. I promise, I just want to help."

Kurt's ears flicked slightly as he studied the young man. His face muscles protested the sudden movement as he smiled softly, nodding. "I think I believe you."

Maybe he didn't know what he was doing. Maybe this was all a trick and Blaine was really going to hurt him. Maybe he was going to only end up hurt and end up where he had been found. Maybe this was a stupid idea.

He could hope, however, that Blaine was true.

Honestly?

Blaine was his only hope.