Chase Young was never one for lap cats.
He respected his warriors. While they lost against him, and thus becoming one of his feline warriors, Chase saw it a bit disrespectful to pet them on the head. Some warriors were an exception; they openly sought out head patting, and would enjoy them to the fullest when he needed something to keep his hands occupied during thought.
Omi changed everything.
The yellow cat was much smaller than his warriors, and thus the weight of the cat didn't bother Chase after long periods of time. The monk claimed not to enjoy petting, or Chase's company, but after a few days, it was clear both were untrue.
Omi stretched out on the hard armour on Chase's lap, purring contentedly as a gloved hand stroked his soft belly. He had never felt so relaxed in his life, and who knew it felt good to be stroked like this? He found he couldn't control his hands—paws now—as they kneaded on Chase's arm, tiny claws scraping at his armour. It felt natural, good. Claws that could shred his skin to pieces, but would not be used in that way. Not when Omi held so much respect for his Xiaolin word. And because it wouldn't get him very far considering how Chase could kill him instantly after that.
They would talk for days. Small things and important things alike—things like conquering other nations. Chase was confident he could talk to Omi about it, because Omi was powerless to stop him. Omi requested they stop talking about that sort of thing. The amount of despair Chase's actions would cause brought him great sadness. There was much frustration in not being able to stop this.
Sometimes, when Omi was being disobedient, he would find himself being carried over to Chase in the jaws of one of his larger cat's—like a kitten! He was no kitten! It was quite embarrassing for the young monk, but it was one of the things he'd have to endure, seeing as he had no other way to protest against Chase.
Chase found himself picking up the monk more often when the cat rubbed against his legs, developed simply out of habit, but Omi had no complaints. Omi didn't really have much to do as a cat, so any entertainment was welcome. Originally Omi found it disrespectful, insulting to his already small stature as a human, but those complaints soon died out when he found that being in Chase's arms was better company than loneliness.
The longer Omi stayed in the feline's body, the more the feline's behaviour took hold of him. Things that Omi found weird in the beginning—grooming his body with his tongue, the new senses gained with his whiskers and sensitive body—he grew accustomed to, and used to his advantage.
Chase had even experienced the rough sandpaper texture of a cat's tongue from Omi. Something he hadn't felt in a very long time, and he'd be lying if it didn't bring a small smile to his lips.
There were times when Omi would watch Chase practicing with his powers. It was amazing how the dragon lord could master his elemental chi so quickly, so effortlessly. The handle he had was exactly what Omi had hoped he himself would one day be able to do. But to see those same powers used for evil was the one thing that kept Omi grounded. Of all the spectacular things Chase could do with his powers, he was Heylin, and he made those intentions very clear. No matter how much Omi would talk and yearn for Chase to show more Xiaolin initiative, Chase would never deliver.
Omi was aware of every change in himself. He didn't deny it was easier to conform to the domestic docile cat's ways, as fighting back wasn't exactly something he could do now that he was four-legged and chi-less. But he wouldn't forget himself. He wouldn't forget what Chase Young had done, even with every caress to his body lighting up the pleasure centers in his brain.
.o
Chase did sleep in his human form most times. Omi would find himself on the floor or at the foot of his bed sleeping, but Chase didn't care for Omi sleeping near him. After a millennia of sleeping alone, it appeared Chase wasn't so comfortable having a body near him in moments of rest.
One time, Omi had hopped onto the bed, assuming the warlord was asleep, and had moved to curl up next to the sleeping figure, but Chase's reaction was instantaneous—a hand was around the monk's neck within seconds, and fear instilled into him that he should never approach Chase when he was asleep.
However, there were times when Chase turned into his dragon form. Not often; Chase liked the control his human side offered, but as a dragon, he was less restrained, prone to mistakes and acts of irrationality. When Chase found all of his duties satisfied, and nothing essentially needed to be tended to, he skipped the Lao Mang Lone soup. It wasn't often, once a blue moon, where he let all of his stress and worrisome thoughts disappear in the beast's rage.
He still maintained sentience, obviously, but as a dragon, he'd throw away certain liberties. Sometimes he needed to be a dragon. A thousand years trapped in the same body would drive anyone mad.
The times Chase turned into a dragon, Chase stayed in that body overnight more often than not. The activity Chase partakes in as a dragon often left him drained of energy, whether it be training, or destroying another city that refused to cooperate with him now that he was the most powerful being on the planet, or other Heylin business that Omi wasn't privy to seeing. The dragon would flop onto his bed, with no regard for blankets, and most times hot to the touch.
Those times, Omi was allowed to sleep next to him. The first time, he didn't have a choice. Chase dragged him to his side, the scaly reptile overheated from a night of savagery. Omi remained stiff for all of five minutes before realising he wasn't about to be ripped to pieces. He found that Chase was quick to fall asleep once Chase was in a safe area, and the rapid breathing slowed to something less distressing.
Chase radiated heat. It was like being near Kimiko when she was using her powers during training. It was uncomfortable, and Omi felt his pawpads slicker from sweat. But during cold nights, it was a welcome embrace. Tucked against the dragon's hard underbelly, Omi slept, protected by a shell of green and black scales. He could knead Chase's tail for hours without the Heylin warrior stirring once.
Chase loved it when he purred. He'd respond with his own guttural version of it, crooning and fawning over Omi, sending gentle vibrations from his chest all throughout Omi's body. It made his fur stand on end the first time he'd heard it. Enemy danger flashed through his mind, no doubt from his feline body's natural instincts. But now, it'd become soothing white noise.
Sometimes Omi awoke to a clawed hand trailing a line down his spine. It was an alien sensation, rough and hard, but Omi pushed into it. Chase would stare at him for half an hour silently, reptilian eyes observing so intensely, it always left him uncomfortable. There's something about a giant predator staring at a small, near-defenseless creature that sends warnings to run if they make a sudden movement.
However, Chase never moved suddenly during these moments. He just watched. For what, Omi didn't know. Was this what it was like for two primal beasts to catch glances, to share a moment in time that was beyond man's ability to comprehend?
Chase would then blink slowly, and Omi found himself doing the same. It always broke the weird trance, and that's when Chase would get up.
Omi couldn't deny that he's living a simple, spoiled life compared to the lands outside of Chase's domain. He'd be sure to think about these memories once he'd escape—somehow, in some way. The Heylin side could not remain victorious forever. He'd look back on these memories with a guilt formed from a position beyond his control. A once powerful warrior, turned into a vulnerable, defenseless creature in a world of evil far stronger than a feline with nothing could defeat. Living a good life as a lap cat while the ones he loved suffered far worse.