Feline Fallaciousness
By: CrystallicSky
Disclaimer: I don't own Xiaolin Showdown, or any of the characters in it, so don't go whining to someone that I told you I did.
Warning(s): Cursing, relationships between two men, AKA SHOUNEN AI, YAOI, SLASH, HOMOSEXUAL, GAY ROMANCE. This bothers you? Dont' read it. Very simple concept, people.
Notes: Pshhh...I don't know. Read it, and I'll get back to you in my Author's Notes; maybe I'll have more to say by then. -.-
Jack had made his presence known on the dating scene, and for a while, all had seemed well.
But, soon enough, as is inevitable, The Curse resurfaced, the same one that had haunted him when he dated women: he always had really bad luck with love...
...
"What the hell do you mean you're leaving me?" the goth demanded, feeling a bit betrayed.
"I'm sorry, Jack," Sean apologized, "but I can't do this anymore. I just...can't."
"Oh, so what? You're just gonna break it off, just like that?!"
"No, I-look, Jack, if you really want, maybe we can make it work, but there's gotta be some compromises, you know?"
The younger man looked up hopefully into the blond's green eyes and asked, "Like what?"
Sean put his hands on Jack's shoulders, his tone firm as he spoke, "Get rid of the cat."
"Wh...what?" the goth questioned softly, "You mean Chase?"
"Yeah," his boyfriend assured, "he's gotta go."
"But...but why?" Jack demanded, "How will that fix problems in our relationship?"
"Don't you get it, baby? He is the problem. There's something wrong with that cat, alright? It's evil or something, and its out to get me!" Jack had thought Sean's eyes were pretty like the green-green grass of a field; now they just looked like two tiny puddles of puke. "Whenever you leave the room, he looks at me like...well, I don't know, but it's not right!" Sean's hair had once made him think of a pile of straw, cutely tucked under a brown wool cap. Now, his hair seemed the gross color of dried piss, his 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' style lazily concealed under a hat. It was a bit insulting to think the guy wouldn't even brush his goddamn hair out of courtesy before coming to see him. "It's like he was trying to suck out my soul, Jack!" And then, in an instant, Sean had lost all physical and emotional appeal to him. His nose was too crooked, his lips too thin, his eyebrows too thick, his posture too slumped, and his personality just too ugly.
"It's me or the cat."
Jack snapped.
He shoved the man away from him, putting him about a foot from the open door to his apartment, now, as he deceptively quietly prompted, "You know what?" His hand caught the glass griffin figurine Sean had gotten him on their fourth date, whipping it hard to the ground at the blond's feet (forcing him to back just out of the doorway to avoid the black and purple shards) as he roared, "Forget you, and forget your hat!" And the door was slammed harshly in Sean's face.
Tears fell freely from Jack's eyes as he walked back into his apartment, ignoring the glass shards on the floor as he made it to his kitchen and flopped into a chair. He wasn't sobbing or really crying, but the tears came anyway.
The scent of the freshly-made dinner reached his nose, and then came a soft sob as he dropped his head into his hands.
This had been their two-month anniversary, and he had made Sean's favorite: pork chops and potatoes au gratin.
Just because the guy turned out to be an asshole and he knew it didn't make the break-up hurt any less.
The feeling of a sentient body in the immediate vicinity made Jack look up, and the second he did, a small feline tongue licked his lip.
His gasp was sharp, startled at the sight of Chase before him on the table, eyes fixed firmly on the goth. The cat was uncaring of his surprise and continued his licking of his human, attention particularly focused on the tear-stained cheeks until not a trace of the salty liquid remained on his pale face.
Jack stopped the attentions with a quiet sniffle and a grateful scratch behind the ear. "Thanks, Chase, I feel better. I still wish he would've dumped me before I went through the trouble of making dinner, though..."
As if abruptly realizing that the food was there, the feline turned and walked behind the plate closest to the albino, nudging it insistently towards him with his nose.
"Oh," Jack sighed, lightly pushing the plate back away, "no thanks, I'm not really hungry. I'd rather not eat alone, anyways..."
Taking note of this, Chase seemed to frown at the refusal before strutting purposefully to the other side of the table, shoving the other plate more towards the middle so he would have room enough to lay in front of it, then doing so and starting to nibble peckishly at the pork chop on the dish.
Jack blinked for a moment, giggling as he suddenly felt in a much better mood than before from the feline's actions. "Okay, okay," he conceded, bringing the plate back and grabbing a knife and fork, "I'll eat. Chase?"
The cat looked up from his plate, and if he knew there was a bit of cheese from the potatoes on his whiskers, he did nothing about it.
The young man chuckled softly, smiling with sincerity. "Thanks."
Chase simply went back to the food, acting almost as if Jack hadn't spoken at all, and that he wouldn't have cared about anything he had to say anyways, but there was a very subtle declaration of 'you're welcome, pet' in his posture.
...
Jack arched his back with a gasp as Tom suckled heatedly at his throat, his hands running appreciatively down the man's strong back to rest at the curve of his lower back.
"Oh, Tom..." he quivered as he felt a hand snaking down to undo the button and zipper of his jeans. He was so ready for this! Granted, he'd only been dating this man for three or four weeks, but they were already so close, and really, what was the harm of having a little fun?
Threading his fingers through chestnut brown hair and kissing his boyfriend fiercely, Jack pulled away, breathing, "Do you have a condom, baby?"
The model (yes, he'd snagged a model!) smirked at him, bluer than blue eyes practically glowing in the dim light of the living room as he assured, "Yeah...I'll get it in a minute, hon..."
The goth sighed and relaxed under the man, kissing affectionately at Tom's collarbone and sliding the fingers of his hand just below the back of his waistband.
Tom, however, suddenly felt a tingle course his spine, and some primal instinct made him glance up.
There, staring directly at him from the arm of the couch, was Chase, Jack's cat, and for some inexplicable reason, the second he caught the feline's gaze, he couldn't tear himself away.
A dark feeling of foreboding was weaving itself through him, instilling a sense of unexplained fear in his very soul, and for a moment, he could have sworn he saw something lurking in the black pupils of the cat's burning, golden eyes, something evil...
"Tom?" Jack questioned at the brunette's silence and the tension of the well-muscled body atop his.
The man jumped at the voice, managing to break away from the stare to glance down at his boyfriend, eyes wide and fearful.
The goth gasped at the frightened expression, laying a hand on the smooth, peach-colored cheek. "What's wrong, honey?" He briefly glanced over the arm of the couch, but saw nothing, and so turned his red-eyed gaze back to the finely-chiseled features of Tom's face.
Tom himself seemed to snap back to reality, quivering lightly as he answered, "I-I'm fine, babe, really." He hurriedly got off of the paler, more slender body and stood, quickly shrugging on his jacket and snatching his keys off the coffee table. "I...just remembered I have a really important shoot today; if I miss it, I'll totally lose my job. I'm just gonna get going, 'kay, baby?"
"U-uh, s-sure, I guess," Jack stuttered, eyes wide as he watched the man grab his few belongings, "just, when you get done, try to-"
"Yeah, alright, bye!" Tome interrupted before leaving, shutting the door with a slam.
"...call me." the goth finished quietly, staring at the door with a forlorn expression.
It wasn't until the sound of a Lamborghini's tires screeching away from the street far below reached Jack's ears that he closed his eyes, a hand coming up to massage his temple.
God, he felt filthy right now. He'd nearly given up his virginity to that guy, and he...oh, god...
A warm weight settled on his bare stomach, and his red eyes shot open to see Chase curled up in a ball, laying casually and comfortably on the albino's belly.
The warmth of the fluffy creature was a nice, calming replacement to the larger body that'd been there a few minutes ago, and Jack smiled softly, petting a hand along the feline's back. He thought it was really cute the way Chase then stretched without using his claws in order to spare the sensitive skin, making the action somewhat awkward before he lay himself the long way over the snow-white torso. "Ah, Chase," he sighed with a smile, "you're always here for me when guys get flaky, huh?"
The cat looked coolly up at his human, something soothing in his gaze before breaking the stare and licking at his paws in bored grooming.
That reminded Jack, and he picked the cat up off of his stomach and stood, putting the animal back down on a couch pillow as he snatched his t-shirt from the floor. "I feel dirty," the goth informed, somehow feeling golden eyes glancing at his unbuttoned jeans before traveling back up to his face, "I'm gonna go take a shower."
Chase watched approvingly as the young man walked away to the bathroom, continuing to groom himself in what appeared to be uncaring aloofness, the light of the floor-lamp only barely bringing out a subtle glimmer of red within slit, black pupils.
...
"Hello?" Jack answered the phone, only to giggle and smile, "Oh, hey, Dean..."
His newest boyfriend, Dean, was one of those really sweet guys that always wanted to go places and do stuff with and for him, a refreshing change from the soulless, domineering men he'd been with at first; in fact, they were going out to see a movie later tonight.
At first, he'd been a bit apprehensive about dating him, as he'd never really been all that close to a black man before, much less in a relationship with one, and he was nervous about saying something politically-incorrect and offending him, but Dean won him over pretty easy with his affectionate demeanor, and they seemed to work well enough so far.
Jack giggled again as Dean gave him another compliment and he practically squealed, "Stop, you're making me blush!" At the mention of the movie, though, the goth sobered a bit and began conversing on the whens and wheres of the date, even as Chase jumped into his lap, demanding attention.
This attention was given in the form of white fingers fiddling absently with the unique tags of his collar, specially-made to give the feline's appearance a special sort of flair.
Centered directly in the middle of the red cloth, just at Chase's throat, was the gold metal, cut into the shape of an eye. What could Jack say? He was good with metalworking, and for some reason, an eye had seemed the appropriate shape. Regardless, the eye-plate was first, and if one lifted it, the rest of his tags (the ones showing he'd been inoculated against rabies and heartworm and the like, along with identification and information) would be revealed, cut into the same shape as the first decorative tag to lie beneath it.
Now, though, the only purpose they served was to be idly toyed with by the cat's human as he prattled on to his current boyfriend.
"So. We're going to see The Dark Knight midnight showing and you're picking me up in an hour?"
Unbeknownst to Jack, Chase's eyes suddenly glowed a sharp red.
"Yeah," Dean replied to the question, the telephone cord wound around his finger, "an hour-" He stopped with no warning, seemingly frozen as a red coloring overtook his brown irises.
And, of course, as their conversation was over the phone, the goth couldn't see any of this, and so could only question in concern, "Dean? Are you okay?"
In a cold, stern voice that was unlike his usual warm tone, the man stated, "We're over. Don't call me again." And then the line went dead as he disconnected the call.
"Wh..." Jack pulled the phone from his ear, staring in shock, "What...?"
Before he could even begin to mull over his rejection, Chase's claws dug into his leg, and he yelped in slight pain, looking down at the cat in his lap with both a dazed expression and voice as he questioned, "What? What is it?"
The feline removed himself from the goth's thighs, waltzing purposefully over to the spot on the carpet where his usual plate and saucer lay empty.
"Oh," Jack quietly realized, "your dinner; I almost forgot." The young man stood and picked up the dishes, heading for the kitchen with Chase trailing closely at his feet.
The goth's mind was in something of a fog at the moment, but that was, surprisingly, for the best. Really, it was infinitely better that he be forced to realize he'd been dumped again slowly in pieces in between making Chase's dinner and being able to cope with it at his own pace as opposed to having been hit all at once and having a dramatic breakdown.
Soon, though, he had dinner ready for the feline and put it in easy reach before running a hand through his hair, sighing raggedly. "Um, I'm tired, Chase; you mind if I go to bed early tonight?"
The cat looked up at this, glancing from his human to the clock that read only 9:16 PM. Clearly, he was a bit peeved that Jack wanted to retire this early when the two of them were normally up until at least 1:00 or 2:00 AM, but seeing as he was pleased that he'd been asked permission, he nodded curtly, allowing the goth to go to sleep before turning back to his evening meal.
Though he begrudged Jack somewhat for it, Chase joined the human in his bed within the hour, heedless of the way he was instantly used as a teddy-bear by the sleeping albino before he'd even gotten settled amongst the blankets.
...
"Hey, Jack? I'm sorry for letting myself in, but your door was open...?"
"Oh, sure, don't worry about it, Percy, it's fine," the goth called from his bedroom, still trying to pick an outfit for the night of romance to come, "I'll be ready in a second. Make yourself at home!"
The raven-haired man smiled at the sweet, chiming voice and took a seat on the couch, holding the small bouquet of red magnolias delicately in his lap. Jack had mentioned the other day that they were his favorites, and he wanted to make a good impression; it was, after all, their first official date.
A soft clicking noise caught his attention, and he looked just behind him to see dark-furred cat on the windowsill, quickly realizing that the clicking had been the sound of the cat's nails on the hard plastic sill.
"Hey, there, buddy," Percy smiled in greeting, reaching a hand out to pet the animal, "you must be Chase."
All of a sudden, he froze, his hand only halfway to its intended trajectory.
The quiet of the room had been replaced with demonic shrieks and screams, and sights he knew were impossible took hold of his vision. Horror shook him from the core as his body got hotter, feeling as if flames were licking at his flesh and singing it off as creatures of pure darkness cackled and screeched at him, and in a single moment of clarity, he realized what he was seeing, hearing, and feeling.
This was Hell.
Percy shot up from the couch and ran for the door, desperate to flee from these sights and sounds and dashing from what was surely a cursed apartment before slamming the doors harshly behind him.
"Okay, Perce, I'm re-..." Jack stopped to see his living room completely empty, his eyers falling on the trampled bouquet of magnolias on the floor.
A cold feeling of emptiness flooded through his body at the thought that, once again, he'd been abandoned, and he blankly meandered toward the kitchen, recalling he had some vodka in the cabinet and feeling a desperate need to try and down the whole bottle in one night...
...
Chase stirred in the middle of the night for a reason he couldn't identify, a feeling of something not right putting him at unease, and he unwillingly awoke to determine the cause of it.
Blinking his eyes open, he shifted slightly in the comfortable pet-bed, turning first to the clock. 3:47 AM; now that was annoying, especially considering he had nothing he wanted to do until sometime past noon tomorrow, but no, that wasn't what was out of place.
His second though was that, maybe, his belongings had been moved, but his bed was just where it always was, and his catnip ball safely under the sheet folded up to be his pillow where he had hidden it, so that wasn't it either.
As a more conscious awareness came back to him, he glanced to his human's bed, and the source of not-rightness was revealed.
Jack was not there sleeping, and the blankets were still neatly-made.
The goth had not gone to bed yet, and was presumably still awake.
With a slight sense of what might have been worry or concern (but really, he couldn't be sure as he didn't feel them often), Chase stood from his bed, stretching briefly before leaving the bedroom in search of his albino.
Before he'd even made it fully into the kitchen (where he'd quickly seen the light was on), his sensitive nose was assailed by the sharp, pungent odor of alcohol and he was met with the slurred greeting of, "Oh, there ya' are, Chase; I was wonderin' where ya' got off to..."
His golden eyes darted immediately to Jack, somewhat slumped against the table and obviously drunk, the source of said inebriation, a vodka bottle with about a sixteenth of its original content remaining, standing deceptively-innocently nearby.
Chase sneered slightly at the development that Jack had been here for the better part of the night drowning his troubles in copious amounts of booze.
"C'mere, Chase." the goth spoke, holding out his hands for the animal. When the feline made no move towards him, he pleaded, "Aw, c'mon, Chase, seriously; I wanna talk to ya' 'bout something, alright?"
Cautiously, he approached at this, only to be roughly snatched up off the ground, crushed tight against Jack's chest. Despite Chase's startled and indignant struggles, the goth held onto him for a good while, administering the forceful hug with all the drunk affection he could muster.
"Its true, isn't it?" he asked after a long moment, pulling the feline away from himself enough to look him over, "You are a satanic cat, aren't you?"
The tense, stunned expression Chase gave him then was apparently enough of an answer as he continued speaking, "No, I guess I sort of figured that. I prolly shoulda been tipped off by the fact you understand the English language, huh? Really, though...seems obvious, I guess; I mean..." his voice started to crack a bit, "why else would all my boyfriends leave like that because of you?"
The feline stopped struggling at this, going limp and simply staring at Jack as he poured his heart out. "You know, I thought my life might get better if I moved out, but so far its been almost worse. I...I figured since my parents totally hate me 'cause I'm 'wrong' and like dudes, I could start over here, but my job sucks, my apartment sucks, I have no social life, and now to top it all off, I can't even hold down a goddamn boyfriend for longer than three minutes 'cause I'm cursed by a devil-cat!"
Tears broke free from his red, bloodshot eyes, a soft sob wracking his thin frame as he scoffed, "Fuck, I'm such a loser. Look at me, blaming my problems on a cat!"
Chase's body was squeezed tighter, but he didn't even feel it. All he was capable of doing was to stare with wide, shocked eyes as his human gave a watery smile, sniffling and half-stating, half-begging, "B-but at least you won't leave, right?"
After only a brief moment to come back to himself, the dark-furred creature began nuzzling against his 'owner', his purrs affectionate and intended to soothe.
That calming affection was just what the young man needed right then.
With only a minute or so of snuggling, Jack seemed to be both more sober and stable, and he lay Chase down on the ground again, wiping his face of the tears before deciding, "I'm fucking smashed..." He stood and flicked off the light (surprisingly only a slight stagger in his step), heading to his room with the information of, "I'm going to bed..."
Chase remained where he was for several minutes, just thinking.
...
Thankfully, the goth had made it safely to bed, if a bit improperly covered by blankets, but that had been easily remedied.
Watching diligently over Jack from his sometimes-bed, the cherry-pillow, was Chase, still deep in thought. He would be in his own bed, but the thing that had just happened made him feel as though he should remain close to the albino who seemed dangerously close to spiraling into the black pit of depression or perhaps even insanity were he not observed and treated with the proper care.
Of course, he'd known Jack would be upset upon losing another boyfriend, especially so early on, but he hadn't expected this reaction: getting drunk and wallowing in all that was wrong with his life.
And how could he have predicted it? In all the months of living here, he'd never seen the goth drinking or scented so much as a drop of alcohol on him whenever he came home with or without a boyfriend, and though there were apparently so many things that bothered him about his life, he'd never really complained.
It was impossible to know how much driving another boyfriend away would affect the young man, and knowing now almost made Chase feel...
Guilty.
"Guilty?" an all-too-familiar voice drawled, "You? Well, now, this boy, must be somethin' special..."
Chase's fur immediately rose, not with fear but anger, and through the telepathic link that'd been created decades ago, he snarled to the floating entity, "Hannibal! What are you doing here?"
Of course, he had taken the usual form, that of a bean, and with a cruel smile, a vine-like appendage reached out to stroke a pale, white cheek almost affectionately with the answer, "Oh, just checking up on the little runt that's gotten my top servant all out of sorts-oops, my mistake, former servant."
A dark and (considering him) dangerous feeling of rage and revulsion flooded Chase at the sight of his Jack being touched by such a disgusting, distasteful creature, and he hissed in warning, "If you wake him-"
"Don't get your fur in a bunch, pussycat, he's hexed to sleep 'til noon; wouldn't want to frighten Chase's little pet," the name was emphasized mockingly, "that is your name, now, right, Chase?"
The feline scowled, prowling from the pillow to lay atop the sleeping albino's chest, standoffishly replying, "I have had many names throughout the years; I am not displeased with the one he has given me."
"Certainly better than 'Fluffermuffin', eh?" Hannibal sardonically countered.
Chase twitched at the reminder of the old woman he'd stayed with for a brief time. The pampering had been nice, but the name was horrendous, and there were too many other cats around for his liking.
It'd been said before, but as it bears repeating, he did not play second banana.
Regardless, he was loath to be in the presence of his former master any longer than necessary, and demanded, "What do you want?"
"Now, now," Hannibal admonished with a smirk, "let's not rush into that so soon. Let's talk a bit; maybe about the little human that's got you so distressed..."
"I'm not distressed." Chase huffed, frowning as the bean laughed again.
"Fine, 'upset', then, whatever word you wanna use is perfectly alright with me. Either way, it seems to me that you're upset because he's upset, and well, mayhaps there's something I could do."
"You have something in mind." the cat stated rather than asked the demon.
"Oh, I do," he grinned crookedly, "but I want you to figure it out on your own; what will make this li'l ol' situation all better?"
Keeping his golden eyes fixed on his bewitched human (partly because he wanted to make sure he came to no harm from the hex and partly because he didn't want to look at Hannibal any longer), he slowly replied, "He wants a mate, someone to settle down with. Someone to-"
"Stay?" the bean finished, "Well, his attempts at finding that might've been successful if it weren't for your meddling."
The cat frowned. "They were not worthy of him."
"Oh, really?" Hannibal chuckled, "Well a decent amount of 'em seemed nice and made 'im happy until you drove 'em off-"
"If they'll leave him over a cat, they don't deserve him!" Chase snarled hotly.
"And who does deserve him, then?" came the stern demand, "You?"
The feline's eyes immediately shot to the bean at this, and for the first time, he found himself without a smart remark or an answer to deny this allegation.
"Oh, ho, ho, ho, so this is the root of all the trouble: your pet wants to be with somebody, and he's upset because no one will stay, and you won't let anyone stay because you want him. What a dilemma..."
Chase hated to acknowledge such a thing, especially coming from the mouth of the entity he hated most in the entire universe, but the prospect of having Jack, not just his mind as he did now, but his heart and his body as well...it was...intriguing, in a sense. Perhaps there was another word that fit better, but alas, he could not think of it.
All he knew was that he wanted to at least try, if just to have the chance to know what possessing such a pretty creature's love was like, and in a flash, he knew exactly what Hannibal had been offering from the beginning.
"I want my human form again." the feline demanded, and he was met with another crooked smile.
"Ah, yes, a human body to seduce a beautiful human boy; just as I figured. But, there would be the matter of how you would pay me for such a generous gift..."
Oh, of course: payment. "What do you want from me, now?"
"Well," Hannibal sighed in feigned distress, "as you can imagine, with my number one devil gone, my soul-income has slowed quite a bit, and that simply will not do. To expend my efforts on such a trivial favor, I believe proper compensation would be..." he hummed as if considering, only to smirk wickedly as he 'decided', "a million souls."
"A million?!" Chase repeated in outrage, declaring, "Insanity! I refuse!"
"Oh, that's too bad," the demon cooed mockingly, "I guess little Jackie here'll keep torturing himself with unworthy mortals instead of getting the chance to be happy with you..."
Chase spared his human a glance, the closest noise to a growl able to be produced by a cat rumbling through his chest. "Fine," he conceded after a moment with no small hint of malice, "a million souls in return for my human body."
"I'm so glad you've decided to see it my way, Chase," the bean grinned, placing his appendages on the feline's head as they started to glow with darkness, "and feel free to scream as loud as you like; I've soundproofed the room for you, and I'm sure I can't fault you for it. Shifting into a form you haven't held in centuries must be quite painful. Not to worry, though," his grin darkened and the black glow got brighter as he assured, "I do so love the sound of your pain..."
And scream Chase did as agony flooded every nerve ending, bones growing and shifting along with his internal organs, the sound of his anguish melding flawlessly with Hannibal's laughter before the night once more grew silent with inactivity.
A/N: So...Chapter 2...I honestly don't think I have anything to say at this point, so...hope you enjoyed reading it! :D