"Tumblebrutus, you are acting like it's all my –"
"It is your fault."
"But –"
"Stop talking, Pouncival. Really."
"Alright…"
"Fine."
"…"
"…"
"C'mon, Tumble! I didn't even know –"
"I'm going to hurt you. If you say one more word I swear there will be pain."
Pouncival sighed and looked at his paws. It's not my fault he's coughing up hairballs and meowing as if he will die any moment. He paused. Well, maybe the first part was his fault. Pouncival had been sick two weeks ago, but that had only been a cough and a sensitive tail. Yes, he then immediately went to spend time with Tumblebrutus, who he knew had a weak immune system and often had to go get check-ups from Jenny to see if he had created any new diseases from his susceptibility for illness, but… really, it wasn't Pouncival's fault; it wasn't as if he had psychic powers like Coricopat or Tantomile and knew that Tumble would get sick. It was Tumblebrutus' fault, the tom who had once been the kitten who had refused to drink all of his milk during supper and went right on to his mouse pie. And, therefore, his sickness was his own problem. Tumblebrutus should have prepared himself as a kitten for later injuries to his health.
Groaning and wanting to do something other than listen to Tumblebrutus' angry remarks, but not willing to leave due to the thought of walking around in the snow at night, Pouncival fell back onto the bed next to Tumblebrutus. After a pause during which he listened to Tumblebrutus cough and hack up yet another slimy hairball, he said quietly, "Tumble?"
"What." Tumblebrutus continued to stare up at the ceiling, but his eyes hardened. He snuggled further into the many blankets surrounding his sick body, looking like a furry – if somewhat red-nosed and angry – caterpillar.
"Um…" He watched Tumblebrutus, slightly depressed. Winter had always been a fun time for them. They could throw snowballs from the top of dens at unsuspecting kittens, or make mouse-cicles, or drink hot chocolate at night, in front of Jennyanydots' roaring fire, telling stories and making jokes. All in all, they could have some of their best times during the snow season. Even when Tumblebrutus got sick, they still managed to have a good time. But apparently not this time.
Pouncival snuggled close next to Tumblebrutus, laying a paw on his waist. It's cold, he thought, justifying his actions. As he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth in the freezing weather, he remembered the time when Tumblebrutus and he had attacked Munkustrap and trapped him in a fortress of snow they had constructed themselves. First, they had planted a kitten there, Jemima, and had her scream in terror, alerting Munkustrap. Of course, they first had to promise Jemima that they would slip in a good word about her to Tugger… they never fulfilled that request. Kittens were gullible.
Next, when Munkustrap had come running into the igloo, Pouncival and Tumblebrutus ran in and bound him with rope while Jemima left the scene. They didn't gag him, but they told him that if he screamed for help that he would tell Demeter that he liked her. Munkustrap was immature when it came to that certain queen, and had shut up instantly. When they left him there, they also left him a few mice that they said he could probably figure out how to eat while he was tied up. Then they had barricaded the entrance, and advertised over the Junkyard that a wild beast was in captivity eating helpless kittens. Much of the tribe had showed up, and the pair had charged submission to see the creature. They had a trove of mouse pies, sweets, various tea blends and hot chocolate mixes, and many, many mittens. Unfortunately, Deuteronomy heard about the event and publicly reprimanded the pair after freeing a trembling Munkustrap. Their entire horde from the adventure had been given back to the owners, much to their disappointment. Pouncival had really liked the mittens.
Pouncival laughed loudly at the memory, thinking that even though they had been embarrassed in front of the whole tribe, the scared look on Munkustrap's face had been worth it. When he started laughing, Tumblebrutus visibly jumped and muttered something under his breath.
"What?"
"If you think this is funny, then go."
"I wasn't laughing at you," Pouncival said with a smile, "I was thinking ab-"
"Get out."
"But why? I thought we were hanging out..."
"Go away and come back when I don't want to strangle you." Even with a paw on his waist, Pouncival felt the rumble of a growl within Tumblebrutus' chest.
"Okay, okay! Well…" He thought for a second. "Watch what you eat, because I think the mice are spreading around some virus. Bye!" He jumped off the bed and ran out of Tumblebrutus' den quickly, but not fast enough that he didn't hear Tumblebrutus' cry of rage and a few loud curses.
Once he was outside, he decided that his rush to escape hadn't been so clever. As he walked away from the den, still able to hear faint swearing, a rush of wind greeted him, ruffling his fur and sending shivers over his body. He clutched his chest, freezing. Too cold… He looked up. Snow was falling down in buckets; fat flakes of snow were covering the junkyard, and, despite the temperature, Pouncival noticed that it looked rather nice. And the possibilities for amusement were endless with a snow-covered junkyard at night.
Remembering the hour, he walked more quickly, wanting to find a place to stay. The most likely place came to mind – Jennyanydots. Jenny looked after the kittens, and she probably wouldn't mind another cat to deal with. He wasn't a kitten, but she always made exceptions for Tumblebrutus and him. Well, at least he didn't think she thought he was a kitten. He was almost positive. When Jennyanydots gave them what she called their "big tom mittens" when it was cold, and tucked them in at night, he was sure it meant that she respected their cathood. But, still… even thought she did treat them like the respectable tomcats they were, he didn't exactly like having to ask her to stay because Tumblebrutus kicked him out of his den.
Despairing at having to yet again relinquish his pride and beg another Jellicle to allow him to spend the night, Pouncival yelled into the night, "Curse you, Tumble! May you die many deaths!" He raised his fist at the moon, but then quickly clutched it back to his chest, shivering in the heavy snow. Now filled with purpose, he ran toward the direction of Jenny's den.
Snow crunched underneath the pads of his feet. The wind was worse now, making him run faster. It wasn't too long before he saw the red glow within the den of Jennyanydots. She always kept at least one candle lit at night, so that wayfaring kittens could spot her home.
"That the Everlasting Cat for queens like her…" Pouncival sighed a breath of relief. As he walked up to the entrance, he heard the sound of laughter inside. "I forgot." Pouncival hung his head. It was Tugger's fanclub. They were mostly kittens, so were always at Jennyanydots' home overnight. But the thing was: they weren't just into Tugger. They loved him best, sure, but these were kitten queens. Meaning, cat urges were raging and they liked pretty much every single tom in the junkyard. Even Gus had his attractive qualities, to these kitten-queens. They were passing the painful transition between kittenhood and cathood, one that Pouncival personally hated. As Pouncival himself wasn't quite a cat either, he was still in that transitional stage, but he was almost out of it, thank Bast. Still, he attempted to avoid all queens (as well as some toms – mainly Mungojerrie; for some reason, that cat was undeniably attractive to Pouncival) so that his newly-found cathood desires would be kept at bay, while these queens always had to be with each other or worshipping some tom. It was hectic.
Courageously, Pouncival squared his smallish shoulders and drew back the curtained entrance of the lion's den.
As expected, what Pouncival found was a gaggle of squealing kittens, not old enough to have been with a tom, but not young enough not to fantasize about it. They were playing on the dark red carpeted floor. Jenny's den was likely the most lavish in the Jellicle tribe, due to her respected position as caretaker. She also had the best food, as Pouncival liked to note. The opening to the kitchen, on the left side on the room, had steam and delicious smells pouring out of it.
The whole group was there – Jemima, Etcetera, Electra, and Victoria – as well as wonderful additions: Rumpelteazer, just on the cusp of cathood like Pouncival (he felt a thrill of fear when he considered the possibility that her, well, sexy brother might be here) and… he swallowed an enormous lump in his throat, almost choking. Bombalurina, who was well past kittenhood and the most intimidating feline Pouncival had ever met. He didn't like being near her, on account of his… likewise raging cat urges. Everytime he was near her, he felt like caterwauling like a queen in heat. But at least Mungojerrie wasn't here. He didn't think he could handle the combination of Mungojerrie and Bombalurina.
In summary: Pouncival hated Bombalurina as she caused him to fantasize about her constantly.
She was gorgeous, yes, but even if he hadn't particularly found her attractive, he knew that she would still drive him crazy. It was the way she acted. Way too suggestive for Pouncival to handle. He was already stressed out trying to control his feline hormones, but when she got up close to him and nuzzled the length of his body, well, he wanted to die. And he knew that she knew exactly what she was doing.
Still standing at the door with these thoughts running through his head, he hadn't yet been noticed. Tearing his eyes away from Bombalurina, who was lying lazily in front of the fireplace on her back with one knee propped upward, he sought in vain for at least one other tom. He didn't see any – none in sight, but that didn't necessarily mean that none were there. The pack of little queens were crowded around one area of Jenny's den, their backs away from him and explaining why they hadn't noticed his entrance. They looked suspicious. Suspicious in the way they looked when they were spying on Tumblebrutus and him.
As he stepped forward and walked slowly further into the den, Jennyanydots strolled out of the kitchen, wearing a white apron and carrying two trays – one with six steaming cups of some hot drink, and the other with a pie and some plates. He sniffed the air. Definitely mouse pie… he smiled and rubbed his belly. He hadn't eaten her pies in a while. Maybe it had been fate for Tumblebrutus to kick him out of his den. The Jellicle gods of hunger had decided that it was time that he be fed a proper slice of warm, rich mousey pie.
Pouncival's eyes were half-lidded in desire as Jennyanydots sang happily, "Oh, how nice to see you, Pouncival!" Kicked back into reality, Pouncival looked at the queen and gave some sort of affirmative noise. He had wanted to say, "Nice to see you, too," but what he really ended up saying was, "Mmyeaaa nngh." However, Jenny didn't seem to notice, and simply went on with her task of filling kitten bellies.
"Girls, your hot cocoa and mouse pie are ready!" Jenny set down the mouse pie on the carpeted floor, but continued to hold the tray of drinks.
In a loud frenzy, the queens broke from whatever they were doing and rushed for the mouse pie, yelling out, "Yay!", and "Yummy, mouse pie!", and "Thank you, I love pie!", as well as, "I'm going to eat everything!". Kitten-queens could definitely eat, a true and sometimes scary fact. Not that boy kittens were any better. There was just something absolutely frightening about a girl kitten who looked so innocent before that was now yelling and screaming for more mouse as she gobbled down two at a time.
The kittens sat around the pie on their knees at Jenny handed each of them a plate. As a chorus of thank yous sounded, Pouncival noticed a battered-looking tom in the area which had been previously inhabited by the kittens. Was that…
…Coricopat?
As the kittens wolfed down their pies – reducing the likeliness that Pouncival himself would get a slice – and Jenny handed each kitten a cup, he watched the tom roll onto his back and sit up rather stiffly. Coricopat was about as old as Bombalurina, and a serious-minded tom. It was odd that he was here, of all places, in the middle of the night. He thanked the Everlasting Cat for it not being Mungojerrie. But… Coricopat was one of the biggest toms in the yard, and was rather violent at times. Now, on second thought, Pouncival didn't know whether he really was happy to see him.
Coricopat made a pained face for a brief second as the arched his back, and then blew out a puff of air. He looked up at Pouncival, still near the entrance. The tom's expression remained distant as he stood and sauntered slowly over to Pouncival. The kittens still hadn't noticed Pouncival. Maybe he could sneak out, if this was what was going to happen… he shuddered.
"Pouncival," Coricopat said coolly as he stopped in front of him, crossing his arms and wearing a slightly bored holier-than-thou expression. "I expected to see you here."
"You did?" Pouncival half-believed in Coricopat's abilities as a mind-reader and psychic. It was a religious thing – Coricopat and his sister were well-known for their attendance to the Everlasting Cat, and both claimed that their adherence to Jellicle tradition had granted them special abilities. Sometimes it was weird what Coricopat knew, but it seemed like he was a really good guesser. It wasn't exactly amazing what he could "predict." For instance, Pouncival enjoyed asking the twins what he would have for lunch later that day. If they refused to predict for him, he would simply say he doubted their abilities and they would give him an answer. He always made sure that they were incorrect. It suited him better that way.
"Yes, the Everlasting Cat told me you would be here to take my place." Of course they did.
"Really?" Pouncival pretended to think hard. Coricopat watched him silently. "Did they also tell you that you're a little old to be fooling around with kittens?" Pouncival smirked. He knew he had hit a nerve.
Coricopat glared at him, not amused, but seething. "Listen, kitten," he growled, "you had better hold your tongue," here, Coricopat grabbed Pouncival's jaw with a strong paw, "or I will do it for you." He jerked Pouncival backward, letting go of his jaw. Pouncival rubbed his chin, in pain and feeling regret for what he had said. A whimper escaped his lips. He clamped a paw over his mouth and made a coughing sound to hide it.
He tried to laugh, but he stuttered a bit and settled on a smirk. "Was that a threat, or was the reference to holding my tongue an invitation?" Getting hurt like this usually encouraged Pouncival to drag out the conflict rather than avoid it altogether. As Munkustrap would say, Pouncival's mind was "very backwards" and he acted in a way that was rather "ridiculous."
The older tom let out a yell – the kittens finally looked up and noticed Pouncival in time to see him thrown onto the floor. Pouncival had never much liked Coricopat, he reflected sullenly. Coricopat pinned him to the floor by straddling him and placing a paw over each of Pouncival's wrists. Jenny had left after serving the kittens their pie and drinks, and the kittens were simply watching as they sipped from their cups as if it were entertainment. Etcetera especially looked happy to watch, and gave a soft "ooh," before shoving a forkful of mouse pie into her mouth and loudly slurping her cocoa.
Whispering dangerously, Coricopat hissed, "Do not say a word about my feelings for younger kittens, especially sweet Victoria and innocent Jemima, or I will kill you." He paused mid-threat. "Or I will do something to you that would make you wish you were dead." Coricopat back-handed Pouncival, leaving his right cheek stinging. A few tears squeezed out of his eyes purely from the shock and pain. He glared at him, and stuck out his tongue, but didn't say anything more. Coricopat looked serious. It was scary, actually.
With that, Coricopat stood and smoothed back his short mane. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Politely, he turned and said to the kittens, "Goodnight, queens. Have a pleasant night." He stepped on Pouncival's stomach as he walked away. Pouncival groaned. Before Coricopat left, he stopped next to Victoria and gently cupped her chin and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Victoria looked as if she had gone to the Heaviside Layer and had been reborn. It was disgusting. Then the tom finally left.
A few moments passed. Then, all at once, the kittens broke out with, "Poor Pouncival!" And then they rushed toward him. It took Victoria a moment to join in, but she eventually did. It was weird, her feeling sorry for Pouncival when she had just had a completely lovesick look on her face for Coricopat. But Pouncival felt utter dread. Oh, no, he thought. This will be worse than Coricopat.
It wasn't as bad as Pouncival imagined. Really, it was actually enjoyable – they made him eat many bites of mouse pie, and let him take gulps of their cocoa. Jenny put a bit of ointment on his face, a cut he hadn't realized Coricopat had given him. The ointment stung, but the kittens began collecting as many pillows and blankets as they could find, and he was rather comfortable when they began to settle down. He was glad that Rumpelteazer and Bombalurina hadn't been fussing over him; they had been talking while the younger queens attended to him. Jemima was particularly concerned for Pouncival, and ordered the other kittens around while she herself held Pouncival's paw in between her small ones, and whispered words of comfort to him while placing a warm, wet cloth over Pouncival's forehead. The way they treated him it would seem as if he were on his deathbed. He would have died of shame if Tumblebrutus had been there. He hated to admit it, but this was even worse than the time Pouncival had been caught with Tumblebrutus in a rather compromising position. It had been Munkustrap who had seen them together doing… well, something that only older kittens, and cats, got into. Munkustrap had tried telling them off at first, but he had ended up so embarrassed that he hadn't even told Old Deuteronomy.
The kittens were all snuggled around him, Electra's and Jemima's heads on each of his shoulders, while Victoria lay across his stomach and Etcetera was curled around his feet, when Jennyanydots, sitting well away from the group, said, "So, Pouncival, what brings you here tonight? Haven't you been staying with Tumblebrutus lately?"
He groaned softly, and said in an unhappy voice, "I got him sick. He's mad at me." Jemima gave a whimper on his behalf and kissed him on the cheek. When he looked at her, her eyes were downcast and she was a bright red.
"That's not good to hear. What does he have?"
"Some sort of flu…? I had it a while ago – I got it from the cats in the neighborhoods outside the tribe." He liked to visit the outside cats occasionally. Some were boring due to their lazy lives, but some were interesting… and he got free food.
"You should talk to Skimbleshanks."
"Why?"
"He has close contact with the humans, being a Railway Cat and such."
Pouncival sat up suddenly. Victoria was flung onto Etcetera, yowling loudly. Jemima and Electra bumped into each other. Electra flopped uselessly to his side as if she had been knocked out. Ignoring this, Pouncival exclaimed, "Exactly! That's what I'll do! I'll get the cure so that Tumblebrutus won't hate me anymore! He'll see what a smart tom I am and will beg me to get back with him. It's the perfect plan." He chuckled darkly and raised his paws to the sky.
The kittens moved away from him, muttering. Electra remained where she had fallen. Jennyanydots simply stared at him.
Pouncival looked at the map. He didn't visit Skimbleshanks often and had to refer to the map showing the path to his train whenever he went to see him. "Take a left at the oak, then turn with the crude path until you see a sapling and a scattering of mushrooms… don't eat the mushrooms…" He trotted along the path. Since it was snowing, and snowing rather thickly, it was hard to see where to go. And it was dark, so that didn't help. He hadn't wanted to spend any more time with the kittens. He had doubted that his virginity would have been safe while he slept.
In a short time, he saw the sapling. As the map indicated, there was a group of mushrooms. As he walked near, he wondered why the note said not to eat them. They looked completely normal. In fact, he was rather tempted to eat one, simply because it said not to. Not wanting to entirely disregard the note, but not wanting to leave with nothing, he took a portion of a mushroom and carried it in his right paw while he walked.
Sniffing the mushroom briefly as he walked, he soon saw the train. It was an impressive thing – shiny black and enormous. He saw a dim illumination in an opening in a door of one of the cars. It must be Skimbleshanks; the tom usually kept watch late into the night, and would proceed to check the other cars before going to sleep. Pouncival thought that he was too cautious. He thought it would be fun to be a Railway Cat, in theory, but Skimbleshanks made it seem much harder than Pouncival cared for. He wanted more excitement – saving the train from crashing, exciting runs across the top of the train, duels with toms in the cars, that kind of thing. Not night watches.
The closer Pouncival got to the train, the bigger it seemed, and by the time he was standing next to it, he was wondering how he was going to reach the landing of the car and climb inside of the open car. Improvising, he called out, "Skimbleshanks? Hello? It's Pouncival!" He was yelling and his voice was loud in the night. It echoed. For fun he added, "It's Pouncival! Pounce! Pouncie, Pounce, kitten-cat, tom ate a rat, and didn't like that –"
"Be quiet!"
Immediately, mid-song and mid-dance (as he was dancing a little jig as he sang), Pouncival stopped and tried to peer inside the car. His night vision wasn't the best, and he couldn't see a thing. However, as the seconds passed, he thought he could make out a dim figure lit by a warm glow, and then suddenly he saw a piece of rough material flung out of the car door. It stayed on the ledge, touching the ground.
Taking this to mean he could enter, he sank his claws into the material and began climbing. It was easy – save that he was stilling holding the mushrooms – the material being sturdy, and hoisted himself up over the ledge. Once inside, he huffed a few breaths and said, "Was anyone timing that climb? Because I think that I came in at –"
"What did you come here for… Pouncival?"
He saw a small fire cracking in one side of the spacious car. He walked toward it, and saw a figure sitting just out of range of the light the fire lit. He saw the orange-brown legs of a male tabby, and knew it was Skimbleshanks.
"Hey, Skimble, my man! I was wondering –"
"Hush! You never know who may be listening."
Pouncival paused. "Uh, Skimble? What are you talking about? Come into the light, I can't see you –"
"Ignore what you see. What do you feel?"
"…confused?"
He saw a pair of hands clasp together on Skimbleshanks' lap. Was this tom insane? Giggling nervously, Pouncival asked, "Did you have one too many night watches? Or maybe it was the mushrooms, since there are some over –" As he spoke, he held out his paw, which was holding the weird fungus. But Skimbleshanks interrupted again. It was getting annoying.
"Silence, Kitten!"
"Oh, oh… um… ah, em, ooh – okay."
"The 'shrooms are of no consequence to me. And neither should they be to you." The figure breathed deeply, and lowered his voice. "But you didn't come here for that… did you?"
"…no?" He said timidly.
"Speak."
"Skimble, you're really weirding me out, and that takes a lot –"
"SILENCE!"
"Sorry."
After a more-than-brief pause, Skimbleshanks asked in a deep voice, "Who brought you here? Or… do you have the map?"
Grateful for being able to answer this, Pouncival said, "The map!"
"CURSES!" Pouncival jumped. "Revealing my secret hide-out to just anyone… we have to be careful who we trust nowadays, my young kitten friend. You understand."
"I guess…?"
"But that is a matter for another time." His voice went even deeper and lower. "Now tell me… why have you come?"
"Come? Um… I…" he stopped and had to think. Remembering he said, "Oh, yeah, Tumblebrutus is, uh, kinda sick, and it's, uh, kinda my fault…"
"You've infected the kitten, have you?" It sounded as if he tried to kill him.
"I just caught the flu. Whatever."
"TELL ME THE TRUTH!"
Pouncival took a step forward. "Seriously, Skimble, stop with all the "ooh, I'm a big scary tomcat", and acting like we're doing something illegal. I just want something to make Tumble better and –"
"Ah, now it's all coming together… very clever, Kitten. But your deception earlier was obvious."
Cocking his head, he said, "Wait, what?"
"Your mission was to partake of my stock of prescription medicine… was it not?"
He had to wrap his head around the big words like "partake," "prescription,"… "stock"... "was"… after he understood what he was talking about, he simply nodded.
"Good. Tell me… does he have headaches?" He lowered his voice and it sounded mysterious as he diagnosed him. "Wheezing? A sensitive stomach? How about… CRAMPS!" The fire crackled ominously. He paused for effect. "Or maybe it's none of these things; maybe it is something much more mild… something much more treatable."
"Aren't those things treatable? Because he has all of those. And he coughs up hairballs."
"Another thread is coming unraveled…"
"Okaay."
"He will die under the next Jellicle moon."
"Wha – huh?"
"No. Not that. Not enough…" he gestured with his paws. "Mystery."
"What do you mean by –" Pouncival repeated the gesture and said skeptically, "'Mystery'?"
"I mean that you'll need that which I about to give to you now." Pouncival had to consider what he said for a few moments before it made sense.
Pouncival saw the figure move away, and suddenly it got very quiet. After a few minutes, he still wasn't back and he felt nervous in the dark, as if something would attack at any moment. "H-hello?" He stammered. Nothing. "Please, I don't want to die! Skimble! Where art thou?" He said the last part in hopes that the phrase would appeal to Skimbleshanks' like of the romantic, mysterious, and tragic. He tried again with, "Thou art more… em, lovely, and… temp-er-ate? … something about a summer's day… dost thou hear my fair remarks, Skimble-et?" He remembered hearing a human say this while dressed up for a "play." Is that really what humans did while they played? Say weird things in weird outfits?
As he thought about the odd behaviors of humans, a bottle of something rolled out until it touched his feet. Bending down, he picked it up. It was cat-sized and contained a few round pieces of medicine. Pouncival still couldn't see Skimbleshanks, but it had come from the direction of the fireplace.
"Mr. Shanks?" He thought maybe the railway cat wanted something more professional.
A loud, booming voice echoed in the dark confines of the car. "You must give this to him twice a day every day, before breakfast and after dinner. Never go over the prescribed dose, or symptoms may include worsened headaches, kidney failure, or even nausea. The medicine's short-term effects include lessened headaches and stomachaches, and long-term effects include elimination of most of the illness' effects or elimination of the illness entirely. Make sure he drinks a lot of water. Four to six glasses a day is recommended."
"…what?"
"Never tell anyone of our meeting... you have no idea how many enemies I have, and I don't want you involved. And you didn't get that medicine from me." With that, the presence as well as the scary voice disappeared entirely.
Pouncival was about to leave, thoroughly confused, when he remembered that he had actually wanted some tea from Skimbleshanks as well. He had seen the effects of tea when Skimbleshanks had been angry – he had made himself a cup of tea and then his anger evaporated. He wondered if it worked the same with illness… he had to find out. This mission was for his friend, and he wasn't going to leave without tea. Well, he wasn't if Skimbleshanks was still in the car.
"Wait! I need tea!"
The presence felt gone for a couple minutes, but then finally he felt something lurking in the corner of the car. "Yeah, what?" The voice sounded bored and unimpressed, and was higher pitched than the earlier voice.
Timidly, he insisted, "…tea? I need it?"
"I don't give tea to kittens!" He was yelling.
"What the – hey, I'm not a kitten!" No response. "Fine! Don't give me any tea! You know what? You're as crazy as Macavity and not as half as charming. So there! THERE! And you can have your crazy mushrooms, because I want no part in becoming crazy like you!" He threw the mushrooms in the direction of the voice.
Before he could get hurt in any way, Pouncival dashed to the edge of the car and jumped down into the snow. A light dust of snowflakes puffed up when he landed, and then he pushed himself onward and ran past the mushrooms, past the sapling and the oak, until, at last, he was on the edge of the Jellicle junkyard. He hadn't dropped the medicine while he had been running – a slight surprise to him – and had rather been keeping a death grip on the bottle. He looked at his paw, and it was clamped firmly around it as if it were the key to his Jellicle salvation.
"Huh," was all he said before he began running again.
Without thinking, he ran right up to Tumblebrutus' den. It was well into the night, and it was hard to see – the moon was no longer so perfectly placed in the night sky. But at least there wasn't any wind any longer.
Pouncival couldn't hear any movement in his den, but he knew that his friend was in there, probably lying exactly where he had left him. But this couldn't wait until morning. And Tumblebrutus was a big grudge-holder, so it wouldn't make a difference if he woke him now or then. Squaring his shoulders for the second time that night, Pouncival pushed up his chin and stomped through the entrance of Tumblebrutus' den.
When he entered, he saw Tumblebrutus sitting in his bed, reading a Jellicle-sized book next to a soft light. And he was wearing… spectacles? Pouncival felt suddenly weak in the knees at the sight and his whole confident persona disappeared and he was left grinning foolishly at the charming sight of Tumblebrutus. The tom looked up at Pouncival, annoyance in his eyes.
Smiling, Pouncival raised his paw. "I brought you medicine… you sexy tom." He couldn't help adding that last part.
"I don't want your medicine." He wisely chose to ignore his friend's comment.
"No?" Pouncival lowered himself to his knees and placed the bottle on the ground before crawling slowly and sensuously over to Tumblebrutus. "Well, then… what do you need?" He said the last part in a lowered voice. Obvious seduction intended.
"What – what are you doing?" At the moment, Pouncival had crawled all the way over to Tumblebrutus and was straddling him, sitting in his lap.
"You don't sound that sick anymore."
"Yeah, I… well, once you were gone, I went to see Old Deuteronomy and he gave me some medicine… it helped relieve the pain. And once the pain in my head was gone, my symptoms were pretty much gone." His eyes were lowered on the last part.
"That's grea – wait, you only had a little pain? What about the hairballs and everything?"
Sheepishly, he muttered, "I thought that it was part of it, but really I pretty much just had a headache… the hairballs were normal for this time of the month for me…"
"I just had to risk my life and my perfectly-styled mane in order to get that medicine for you, and it turns out that you're just a big kitten after all. Tumblebrutus… you seriously make me mad sometimes. Very rarely, but, er… um… ah…" Pouncival was finding it hard to voice his thoughts while Tumblebrutus licked his lips slowly, his tongue running across his lips in a thoughtful manner. He didn't think Tumblebrutus knew the effect he was having on Pouncival. And the way Tumblebrutus was looking up at him over the edge of his glasses was killing him.
"So, what I mean is… um…" Tumblebrutus' eyebrows furrowed and he bit his lip. He bit… his lip. Pretty much every last restrain in Pouncival disappeared.
"Oh, screw it!"
With that, Pouncival grabbed Tumblebrutus by the shoulders and pressed his lips on top of his. Underneath his paws, Tumblebrutus' body stiffened and even as Pouncival pressed into the kiss, Tumble didn't kiss back. Pouncival pulled away. "Did you have any idea what you looked like? It was torture Tumblebrutus. Absolute torture."
Tumblebrutus didn't say anything in reply, but closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Pouncival's waist and pulled him close enough for kissing. Pouncival smiled against Tumblebrutus' lips. Wondering how he would respond, Pouncival pushed out the tip of his tongue and ran it along Tumblebrutus' lips. Rather than the indignant surprise as he expected, Pouncival felt Tumblebrutus' tongue press against his in a rather sexy way.
Feeling adventurous, Pouncival ran his paws down Tumblebrutus' back, stopping occasionally along the way to grab at the muscles. He rested his paws in the vicinity of his hips, gently rubbing. Tumblebrutus began to purr.
Murmuring against his lips, Pouncival said, "You know, I never thought it would be that easy to get a purr out of you. I bet, to get you to miaow, I would only have to touch your –"
"No." He also thought he heard him mutter, "Not this again…"
"Really? Most of us toms like a good –"
Tumblebrutus kissed him again. This time, he pulled Pouncival back until they were lying on his bed. Wanting to test his limits, Pouncival pulled away from the kiss and began planting kisses along his jaw. He heard Tumblebrutus groan – not in annoyance, but… pleasure? He grinned. He went that way until he reached the tom's neck. He pressed firm kisses there, and rubbed Tumblebrutus' chest as he did so.
"P-ouncival…" He said this in a stilted way, and his breathing quickened slightly. Pouncival looked up at him. He looked disheveled and his glasses were askew from their kissing. He immediately felt some sensation jump right to… well, he didn't know exactly where. But it was definitely naughty.
Pouncival stopped his kisses, but he moved one paw down to stroke his hip. He moved the other arm to rest below his chin as he placed his head on Tumblebrutus' chest. "You know, I keep wondering why we never do this that often. Do you think you'll lose control and… take me?" Pouncival grinned with one side of his mouth and raised one of his eyebrows in a devilish way.
Tumblebrutus pushed himself up on his elbows and watched Pouncival. "Uh… what?"
"You seem to always lose your control much more easily than me… you know, when we… do naughty things." He grinned at this, and Tumblebrutus fairly blushed. "So, I was wondering," he traced a design on the inside of Tumblebrutus' thigh, dangerously close to his…
Swallowing thickly, Tumblebrutus said in a slightly breathy voice, "No, I, em, don't." With a surge of strength, Tumblebrutus said, "Well, I wouldn't if you didn't do that!" He grabbed Pouncival's paw, which was touching the area directly around his tomhood. Tumblebrutus' was definitely flushed now.
"I guess you don't want to do anything with me…" Pouncival pouted and sat up. He was beginning to remove his leg when Tumblebrutus laid a paw upon it.
"You don't, er, have to go. I mean, unless you want to. Because if you do, then, like, you know, whatever." Tumblebrutus wasn't good with this sort of thing – never had been, really – but Pouncival was instantly charmed and was glad of his deception.
"In that case…" Pouncival laid down on top of Tumblebrutus, who slid his arms around his waist. Threading his fingers through Tumblebrutus' unkempt mane, Pouncival kissed Tumblebrutus deeply and sighed.
"You know, when I went to see Skimbleshanks, he was really crazy… I mean, there were mushrooms outside of his train, and I think he ate them or something, because he was acting all weird and kept disappearing randomly so that I could only hear his voice and –."
"Shut up."
"Why?"
Tumblebrutus glared at him. He grinned. "Just… do it."
"You were never good at telling me what you wanted."
"Kiss me."
Smiling, he said, "Alright."
