Practice Makes Perfect
Smiling to himself after a lovely evening out with his mate, Munkustrap strolled down the path to deliver his date to the safety of his den. As they caught sight of Mistoffelees' home up ahead, the tux sighed contentedly and leaned into his shoulder. Their hands brushed and Mistoffelees took the opportunity to entwine their fingers, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"I had a wonderful time, Munk. Honestly I don't think I've ever had fish that delicious!" They turned to face each other in front of the entrance, but Mistoffelees didn't seem keen on letting the date end just yet, snuggling in closer but pointedly not initiating a goodbye.
Munkustrap smiled sweetly at the soft purr rumbling between them. He wrapped his free hand around the smaller tom to hold him closer feel it against his chest. "Then I'd love to bring you back there more often."
"That would be nice," Mistoffelees replied airily, not excessively interested in fish at the moment. It didn't take long to reveal what was really on the tom's mind when he swooped up and kissed Munkustrap full on the mouth, a rough tongue soon pushing past his lips.
The rumbling in the small chest grew louder until it echoed back in the silver tabby's throat. His back soon met the dull rubber of tires beside the door with Mistoffelees practically draped over him like a very furry apron, light claws anchoring into his shoulders.
Something new, he noted, was the titillating way a slim white leg stealthily hooked itself around his thigh... and the way it drew them so maddeningly close. The claws on his shoulders took great pleasure in dragging little paths of shivers down the curve of his sides, stopping to trace circles into the flat of his back and hips.
"Do you want to come inside?" Mistoffelees murmured, leaving the tabby's lips to run tantalizing fangs over the thin skin of his stripe furred neck.
Munkustrap stifled a groan, heart pounding madly in his ears. He almost missed what the tux had said over the distracting migration of hands from his back to the base of his... waist.
Yes, he would very much like to go inside, but the thing is he had other commitments and he simply couldn't. Sorry.
Remember what you rehearsed, he reminded himself before finding the nerve to speak. It's not that difficult; just say you can't, not tonight. "Yes." Everlasting! Munk in love was clearly not keen on turning away his sensuous mate. "I..." and then some weird, hybrid bird-marmot noise that, although meant to be taken as 'I don't think we should', clearly came out as 'I just need to test out my vocal chords for screaming your name'. It seemed to slow Mistoffelees down because he pulled back a moment to watch the spectacle, brows knit in concern.
Munkustrap let up with an abashed grin and did the seemingly smart thing (though rather dumb in retrospect) by smothering his mate's puzzlement with a sloppy kiss.
Then he remembered he was being invited into Mistoffelees and Victoria's den. Chances the tux would try any funny business with her around, especially- the word alone made him break out in a cold sweat- sex,were lost somewhere in the negative twenties.
Which reminded him he had to speak with her anyway; he was asked to proposition her with teaching dance to the younger kits. Jenny would ask Victoria herself, but it was decided that Munkustrap was best at breaking bad news.
"Where's Victoria?" he chirped a little too enthusiastically when he'd sauntered into the den to find it Victoria-less.
"She's staying at Etcetera's." Mistoffelees was tugging at the door, which now had a thin piece of string draped over it. "It's just us tonight." The door shut with a trademark Hollywood shriek that would have screamed his name had this been a murder story. Panic began to set in. "...Need to get that door fixed," Mistoffelees mumbled under his breath before slinking back to Munkustrap with a hiplicious strut.
Bouncing up onto his toes, the tux grinned and wrapped his arms around the tabby's neck, his tail threading their thighs. "It's just us tonight," he whispered again and pulled his mate into a steamy, fiery, passionate, delicious, sultry, and many more synonyms for 'Wow!' kiss. This time when the hands roamed they were a lot less hesitant to place themselves wherever they pleased on Munkustrap's body... in other words his arse.
In Mistoffelees' defence, Munkustrap had a pretty firm hold on his as well, which might have been Munkustrap-in-love saying 'bring it!' so regular Munk let go. Great damage was done, though, and Mistoffelees was already working their bodies into jelly-legged passion; the action inched back to the tux's bed for the main event.
The duo tumbled back onto the blankets with Mistoffelees pleasantly supine and Munkustrap pressing him deeper into the bed. Immediately the tabby noticed the clean new blanket; scentless and suspiciously smooth and silky and perfect for- Everlasting. He froze.
Beneath him Mistoffelees whimpered and pointedly rolled his hips and caressing the still tom's chest and stomach to recapture his attention. For a moment he stopped altogether and pushed up onto his elbows, clearly more than a little troubled at the full stop.
The hand that caressed his cheek was amazingly soft and comforting despite the tom's eagerness to put the new blanket to good use. Eyes shone confused and worried as they searched Munkustrap's, they clearly weren't doing well in hiding the mess of nerves, hormones, and worst-case-scenarios wreaking havoc in his head. "...Munk?"
"What?! Oh... my. I'm sorry, my mind's just everywhere all at once- You don't have to stop, it's fine." Foot. Mouth. Now!
"A...alright. If you're sure." Decidedly reining in his enthusiasm, Mistoffelees closed the space between them for a slow and more tender kiss.
It was as if a huge spotlight had trained itself on him, turning the bed into a stage for the world to gather around and watch. If he closed his eyes it was more than easy to picture every Jellicle making up the audience, gossiping and whispering about his inadequacies as a performer with, admittedly, no rehearsal.
It suddenly dawned on him. The last straw that broke the proverbial camel's back, the drop that made the vase overflow, the thing that finally resulted in something horrible happening: he couldn't- as in not if his life depended on it- get an erection.
"Aah!" he yanked himself away and off the bed. "I-wow! I have to go, Misto. I really have to go- like right now." He clung to this as a mini mantra, chanting his ode to leaving but, like an idiot, not actually doing anything. Maybe it was the upside-down look on Mistoffelees face, those incriminating blues that searched him top to tail-tip desperate for answers, which kept him in place.
There was a long moment where Mistoffelees watched him dissolve into a frantic mess before getting the hint ten times over that Munkustrap needed to leave. So he gave him an invitation. "Okay, Munk."
Without a second thought he booked it out of the den, the door shrieking something that wasn't his name as it swung on its rusty hinges for the first time in two years.
The air was too hot for this time of year, Mistoffelees noted when his nap on the trunk of the TSE1 quickly turned into a barbecue. Pity, he was looking forward to getting some sleep. Granted the original plan didn't exactly involve sleeping, but he would much rather that sleep deprivation than the kind he was feeling now.
Rolling onto his side he sighed. What could he have done so horribly that Munkustrap just about tore through his den to get away?
Too restless to sleep, he gave up on sleep. Maybe he should hunt down the tabby and grill him for answers. That would mean having something to say once he'd finally found him. Hey, Munk! Quick question: why won't you jump my bones already? Perhaps he should take a walk to think things over some more.
Considerably easier said than done as the clearing was infested with the Jellicles now and he could barely find the opportunity to disappear, let alone mope properly, without someone harassing him for a chat. The idea to sleep was actually a product of wanting to stay where he could easily find the tabby when he decided to confront him, and to discourage overly friendly Jellicles from wandering over.
To his sarcastic delight Munkustrap was nowhere to be seen all morning, and the others were feeling especially talkative.
He needed to find someone he wanted to distract him. Surely he smelled Tugger's scent lingering about not too long ago...
Not a whiff into his search and a painfully familiar smell wafted over to him from the tire. No doubt his target was on the move as the next breeze nearly had their whole spectrum of scents stuffed up his nose; maybe he could-
"Oh, Mistoffelees, there you are."
"Uh!" he jumped at the unnecessarily loud greeting and turned to face his visitor. "Here I am!"
Munkustrap smiled warmly from the landing just off of the car, he leaped onto the dented body beside his mate and leaned in for a quick nuzzle. Nearby some of the queens watched and giggled: for some reason nuzzling and licking had become a tremendously big deal when mates did it. Especially of the queer variety.
There was little speculation as to why Munkustrap cut the move short when Mistoffelees didn't reciprocate. It almost made him feel good to see, from the deep frown he sported, that the bigger tom was almost just as inconvenienced by their mishap as he was.
He watched the frown smooth out into a more neutral, apathetic expression. Tugger had once referred to this move as 'ironing out his Sunday best' because of the remarkable way he polished off any and all traces of emotion- and wrinkles- from his face. Mistoffelees made a point of challenging the impersonal tone that usually followed the shift with an arched brow.
Munkustrap clearly thought better of it. "Misto," he began with a softness that clashed with the stiffness of his jaw. "Jenny's den grew a bad leak and I need to help her fix it before dinnertime; would you mind entertaining the kits for a little while?"
Seriously? I have half a mind to- "Yeah, no problem. I'm not doing anything anyway. One would say I could use the distraction."
It was instantaneous, the way his body bowed into a contrite and defeated little thing. Well, he wasn't little, but he sure deflated under the accusatory edge in Mistoffelees' voice to the point where any tom who has ever taken a mate could immediately empathize and forgive him his humility. The tabby idly picked as a dried mole of dirt, scratching it off the filthy, dented metal.
Still, he refused to address the two-ton elephant hanging over their heads. "I'll go fetch the kittens. We shouldn't be too long; it's not a terribly big project."
Uninterested with the sad state of Jenny's den, Mistoffelees simply nodded until he stopped talking. "I understand."
Munkustrap nodded in kind and got up to leave. He faltered a moment when he'd unwittingly leaned in to nuzzle his mate again, then pulled away to start towards Jenny's den where the kittens would be waiting for him.
Out of impulse, and because he was already tired of feeling sorry for himself, he followed Munkustrap along the wall of junk that hid the clearing from the other, more offensive junk.
Munkustrap froze at the tug on his tail, not wanting to give Mistoffelees an excuse to 'accidentally' yank it out. "What happened last night, Munk?" Mistoffelees whimpered. He kept his voice low so as to not announce to the entire junkyard that their 'sex-life' had crashed and burst into hilarious little flames before it had even been turned on. "Did I do something wrong?"
The other tom let out a deep sigh that had trailed off into a frustrated groan. He sounded terribly tired when he spoke, almost as if he'd already worn himself out having this discussion with the tux in his head, "No no, Mistoffelees, you did nothing wrong. It's nothing, trust me-"
"You don't just walk out on someone because they didn't do anything wrong and nothing happened!"
The queens that had been watching them earlier had stopped chatting almost as soon as his voice passed the appropriate hushed-arguing decibels. Now it was anyone's business and they were taking initiative to make it theirs; they whispered and gasped amongst each other with about as much subtlety as Macavity's obnoxious laugh and knack for shattering every pane of glass in the junkyard.
Dropping his voice to a harsh whisper and grabbing the tabby's wrist, he pleaded, "At least drop me a hint or something," giving his arm a quick shake.
Since saying something would be better than a blank stare, Munkustrap had to work with the nothing he had: "Misto- Love... please."
The tux's eyes rolled back in his head; he closed his eyes against the buzzing feeling in his brain and the vision unfolded before him. Jenny had come looking for Munkustrap. He relinquished his mate with a sigh; it was bad enough he has grilling the tom, but to risk bringing Jenny into it would be incalculably worse. For both of them.
As she entered the clearing, Mistoffelees was already halfway between her and Munkustrap, bee lining for the chattering flock of kittens trailing behind her.
Jennyanydots gave him one of her 'you're a peach!' world-weary smiles she usually saved for kittens who try too hard, and the cats who agreed to watch them. She bent down (a terribly annoying side effect of being on the shorter side... and aspiring to the extreme) and gently nuzzled the top of his shoulder.
"I hope you get that leak fixed," he beamed. Taking note of, and mentally ticking off, each member of the parade at her heels. "But I reckon it won't be a problem; Munkustrap has a talent for handling broken things."
Where'd I leave those roofing bits? As nature would have it everything goes wrong when it's most inconvenient, it's a fact everyone learns to live with and almost expect because it's just so damn reliable. Well, this time everything went right; Jenny's leak was nothing more than an exposed crack in the metal making up her den, so Munkustrap needn't more than a square of wood to fix it. In all honesty, he was hoping for a big project so he'd have more time to think... and avoid Mistoffelees.
To show the universe, he insisted on finding some metal sheeting to cover the wood so that wouldn't spoil and leak. It was logical, but it was also smart. Now, if only he could find the scrap metal he set aside...
"What's got him?" Munkustrap, having taken a peek under a stack of rotting fence posts, jumped and ended up knocking a couple good brain cells out of place. He scrambled backwards out of the rot to spot the Rum Tum Tugger perched at the top of the stack. "I don't think I've ever heard Misto almost-yell at you before. And since you make a habit of being a thick-headed boob, you must have really deserved it."
"I don't make a habit of it."
"No one does, bro. I'm not saying it's your fault, you just are." Not quite in the mood to sit there and bicker with the Rum Tum Tugger, Munkustrap ignored him and turned his attention back to the pieces of scrap. "So! What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Munkustrap sulked. He flipped over a faded blue tarp to find a bunch of half-broken bricks.
"No, you didn't. For once you did nothing and still got trouble." Munkustrap tried his best to slowly inch away, using the guise of looking for better material to wander off. Tugger easily caught on and migrated to a spot near the rubbish bin the tabby was currently inspecting."Or, rather, for twice?"
That caught Munkustrap's attention. "He told you?! What did he say?"
Tugger's grin stretched, wide and goofy, from one extreme of his face to the other. Clearly pleased with the sudden change. "No, he didn't- well, yes, he told me to go stuff it- but it's not incredibly hard to tell that our usually chipper magician is a little frustrated," He emphasized the word with a knowing wink. "What excuse did you give him this time? Clearly it didn't work."
Shuffling from side to side, Munkustrap bowed his head in shame; he regretted confessing the conversation already."I didn't. I just... froze."
Tugger's grin disappeared. "Uh oh."
"And then I ran."
It was a very quiet statement, whispered into the palms of his hands, but Tugger had an ear for embarrassing stories so he knew there was no need to repeat himself. "You ran?!" Munkustrap simply nodded.Only when Tugger let out a low, long-winded whistle did he peel his face from his hands; he had to know how bad he'd screwed up. Tugger nodded. "Get used to being alone, Munk."
"He wouldn't leave me because of that... right?"
"I don't know. He might if he thinks he can get better." To Munkustrap's surprise, Tugger was pleasantly serious and considerate. It was worrisome For a moment the maned tom frowned. Eventually, as he combed through his whiskers, he smiled. "...You know, he might be a bit more understanding if you just flat out tell him you're a virgin."
Munkustrap's cheeks burned beneath the dark fur on his face; his eyes darted about the scrap for anyone who might have wandered over wondering about the never ending echo travelling across London and who was the virgin? When no one showed up he picked up the conversation with a harsh bark of laughter that even caught Tugger off guard. "And what good will that do me? It'll get me laughed at and- Everlasting, imagine if word got out!"
"It might finally give Misto a reason to stick around," Tugger pointed out. "Right now he probably thinks you just don't want to be with him: it's amazing what running away from someone who's trying to seduce you can do to a tom's pride."
He hadn't thought of that before. It was hard enough for him to run out of the den unscathed, imagine what Mistoffelees was thinking. Imagine how he must have felt.
Mistoffelees, Munkustrap knew, had gone terribly on him, for he definitely deserved to be more than almost-yelled at. Tugger had reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not saying you have to sleep with him, but at least tell him why."
"I do want to- sleep with him, that is- but he's done it before and I don't know what to do, especially for someone more.. experienced."
"Everlasting, Munk, cats with less than half a brain have been doing it perfectly fine without even knowing what it is! Plus I'm sure Mistoffelees won't mind helping you figure it out." Tugger said. "Now, if you excuse me, all this talk of sex is making me hungry. Care to join me for a hunt?"
Munkustrap sighed. He nuzzled Tugger's arm and ran his fingers though his headfur. "No. I think I better go find Mistoffelees."
Tugger released him to bring his hand up into a salute. He clicked his heels together and boomed, "Good luck, brother," before turning to find his next meal. Just before jumping off to disappear into a mess of mattresses he stopped short and turned back to the tabby. "Here's a little tidbit for ya: massaging underarms is a real turn on." In no time flat he was gone in a noisy trail of falling drywall and broken frames.
Being alone with his thoughts almost made him regret turning down even Tugger's company. He'd already agreed to talk to Mistoffelees...
But he wanted to know about that arm thing.
It was almost sundown by the time he'd found the tux still lingering about the clearing, chatting by the oven with Electra and Pouncival and pretending to be impressed when the patchy kitten showed them the backwards somersault he'd been working on. Electra leaned over to whisper something in his ear and he smiled. He had a lovely smile.
A low whistle beckoned him from the tire. Tearing his gaze from his mate, Munkustrap spotted Tugger on the tire pausing his conversation with Cassandra and Rumpleteazer to give his brother an encouraging nod. Cassandra pouted, swatting at his arm gently, and Tugger turned back to indulge her with his attention.
"Good evening, Munk," Electra greeted as she passed him with a yawn. He quickly bid her a good evening as well and looked back to the oven for Mistoffelees.
Tumble had replaced the tortoise queen and had taken it upon himself to steal his attention from Pouncival too by sitting more than just a little close. Munkustrap's fur bristled when the youth had reached out to groom the tux's dusty and disheveled fur, mussed by his afternoon with the kittens.
Mistoffelees laughed at something Tumble had said; Munkustrap, however, couldn't bring himself to appreciate the joke and glared as he stalked over to the two toms.
"...Do you think you could teach me? I'd give anything to dance as beautifully as you do!"
Mistoffelees blushed. "You dance perfectly fine, Tumble. Just practice and you'll be the best dancer the tribe has ever seen." Noticing him closing in on the two, Mistoffelees ignored Tumble's insistence that he'd never be half as good as The Magical Mr. Mistoffelees and blah blah blah.
"Come on," Munkustrap said and caught Mistoffelees by the wrist to lead him out of the clearing.
"I-I'll talk to you later, then!" Tumbled called after them, not trying very hard to hide his contempt for Munkustrap's intrusion.
They walked in silence for a long time. Munkustrap stopped a few times but he just couldn't bring himself to face Mistoffelees. Not yet. But eventually Mistoffelees began getting annoyed at being lead around the same grungy, broken appliances and dug his heels into the ground. "Munk, what are you doing?"
Munkustrap stared at him sheepishly, feeling terribly vulnerable. "I want to talk to you... about last night." The tux perked up, clearly not against the idea, and waited patiently for him to continue.
Silence hung between them for a good few minutes. Who knew crickets lived in junkyards! The problem with toms, Munkustrap noted, was that they couldn't plan out what they wanted to say ahead of time. Finally Mistoffelees' patience ran thin. "Are you going to say anything, or are you just going to stare at me-?"
"I've never taken a mate before." Munkustrap blurted.
Mistoffelees blinked, taking a moment to consider a fact he already knew. "So, what, you have trouble talking about feelings? You don't want to give up your den? Can't stand not having as much alone time? I don't follow."
"No, none of that," Munkustrap said. "I-I've never actually mated with someone... as in spent the night and..." he began waving his arms about in a way similar to ones you'd use to explain the water-cycle.
Mistoffelees didn't need a translator to figure what he was trying to say. "Oh. I see."
He smiled suddenly, a soft and simple smile that seemed to add hours of sleep to the bags under his eyes. If anything he looked more relieved than anything. "Where do we go from here then?"
This time it was Munkustrap who lay back on the blankets, watching Mistoffelees climb on top of him with wide eyes and jittery hands. Beneath roaming lips mapping out the thick bundles of muscle in his chest and arms, Munkustrap's mind began to dissolve into an incoherent whirr, hands shaking even harder.
Gazes met and he knew it was going to happen. Taking him in his hand, Mistoffelees moved until they met down below then smiled down at his mate. Munkustrap squirmed in anticipation, clutching the black fur of the tux's thigh.
Leaning in for one more passionate kiss, Mistoffelees took one of his hands and clasped it tightly with his own. They parted and it wasn't until he heard the tux whisper with utmost desire, "Are you ready?" that he realized his eyes were shut. He opened them and nodded, licking his dry lips.
Mistoffelees grinned and leaned back to slowly take him in, their hands still clasped. The young tom moaned softly as their connection deepened. Beneath him, Munkustrap bit his lip, unsure whether he should moan too or stay quiet. Were there rules as to who made sound? Is there a code of conduct Tugger forgot to mention?... Would Tugger forget to mention it? "Remember to breathe."
He'd barely heard what the tux had said (probably due to the blood rushing in his ears) but threw his head back and howled with laughter nonetheless.
Mistoffelees looked genuinely torn and, if he'd seen properly through the tears, stunned. Munkustrap was almost certain he's get a good swat over the head (the one on his shoulders, you perv) but instead the tux doubled over onto his chest and started to shake.
Together they laughed. They laughed, and they laughed loud. Anyone passing by would have thought them loony and peek in to become the end of a bad joke themselves. Somewhere in the laughing Mistoffelees decided it be best if he cut the hysterics short before his partner pass out halfway through getting started.
A couple strong thrusts and Munkustrap's laughing was cut off by an equally loud groan.
He had to admit, the feeling of being inside his tuxedo lover was no where near what he'd imagined it to be. Heat so intense and pleasure so strong he felt the jello in his bones begin to broil. It was almost embarrassing how, barely a few minutes into slow, steady thrusting, he was growing desperate and eager for more.
Mistoffelees' whole body shuddered in delight when Munkustrap's languorous squirming turned to insistent thrusting, hinting his growing desire to speed up the lovemaking. Between trying to keep balance and focussing on his own pleasure, Mistoffelees looked out from hooded eyelids, gaze dark and sultry, and asked between pants, "Do you want try, then?"
In a flash Munkustrap was up flipping them over; laying the tux down in his blankets, he leaned in for what he intended to be an appreciative kiss but his jagged panting and moaning turned the sweet gesture into a bid to blow the tux up like a life-sized balloon. Mistoffelees pushed him back with a throaty chuckle. A wry smile and his pushing hands led the stripped- furred head down to his chest, making his intentions quite clear when he directed the gasping mouth to a nipple.
Without missing a beat, he took the small nub between his lips and gently sucked and licked at the swollen flesh. After a moment he wondered if he should continue or not; was he even doing it right? Mistoffelees seemed rather quiet, maybe he should ask...
"You're doing fine, Munk," the tux grunted the moment he glanced up at him from the bib of white chestfur, and roughly pushed his head back down. Apparently he didn't need to ask.
And just like that, Munkustrap's first sexual encounter had been officially stamped and framed. He didn't know how long he'd been on top of Mistoffelees, but he figured it wasn't long enough because the image he'd gathered from the other toms' legends of 'simultaneous climax' didn't quite match up to what was happening at the moment.
Without warning he'd pitched forward onto Mistoffelees' body and clutched to him desperately as he rode out his sudden orgasm. He'd gasped and moaned, and moaned some more, as he spilled himself into his small lover; a quick prayer was sent to the Everlasting Cat, hoping he was allowed to do that.
If he wasn't Mistoffelees hadn't said anything. Instead the tux reached up to gently run his fingers through the matted headfur, catching his breath as best he could with Munkustrap sprawled on top of him. "I'm not very good at this," Munkustrap murmured finally, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees.
Mistoffelees laughed and reached up for a quick kiss. "We'll just have to practice, I suppose."
It was difficult to ignore, even with all the reassuring smiles and caresses, that while he was completely spent his mate was still reeking of pent-up heat and arousal.
Because he wanted to show his mate that he wasn't entirely clueless between the blankets, and because Tugger was the only one he could trust for these kinds of things, he decided to try his new move.
Mistoffelees' thought much of it when he'd taken it upon himself to sensuously slide his hands from the tux's chest to his underarms. Barely a minute into pressing his fingers into the meaty joint under Mistoffelees' shoulder, the small tom's eyes flew open and he began to jerk. "What- Munk, what are you doing?!" he cried, squirming harder. "STOP! Everlasting, stop!"
Apparently being ticklish doesn't go away when you're turned on. Munkustrap yanked his hands from the young tom's sides and froze. It slowly dawned on him what Tugger had done and he smacked himself for playing the fool. "I'm sorry, I thought-! I-is there something I can do? To... to help?"
"No!" he coughed, looking very red and about to pass out from want of air. "No, it's fine for now. Let's call it a night; you must be exhausted, and I wouldn't want to worn you out."
Munkustrap's entire face deflated. "Oh. Okay." He pulled the silk blanket Mistoffelees insisted on bringing over (for the occasion, of course) and cuddled in close to his back.
He smiled when Mistoffelees purred, shimmying closer into his chest. The tux suddenly craned his neck and smiled up at him. "Good job." A quick peck on the cheek and he turned back around to fall asleep.
Smug and satisfied, Munkustrap could sleep well keeping one thing in mind: Mistoffelees, ever after tonight, wanted to try again... and practice! :)
Fin
Happy Birthmas!