Just Like Cats and Dogs

by BA Tortuga

  “I know. You need some more of the good meds, babe?”

  “Yeah. I… I don’t know what to do.”

  “You will.” Gus had never had a long convalescence, but he’d been busted up once in a mine collapse, and he knew it took patience. It was hard.

  “I hope so. They were trashing my place, last time I saw.”

  “It’s a bit of a loss, Puss. Helena and Gray pulled everything out that they could.”

  Sam nodded, curling into himself, getting smaller, tighter.

  Gus sighed. “We’ll just have to get a new place, huh? You and me.” He was never letting Sam out of his sight again.

  “Yeah? That’s not crowding you too much?”

  “I may never let you go to the store alone again.” He tried a grin.

  It must not have worked, because Sam touched his face with shaking hands. “I fought them. I swear to you.”

  “I know, babe. I know you did. You don’t give up.” He took a deep breath, his chest tight.

  “I wanted to. By the end, I prayed she’d kill me. She promised she would, if she couldn’t get me out. She’s just a kid, you know?”

  “Yeah, a deadly, hard as nails kid. What a fucked-up mess.” Gus bent and kissed Sam’s forehead. “You’re never going back.”

  “No. I can’t. They said I was a traitor.”

  Gus snorted. “Bullshit. Who raised you? Who loved you? You were true to your family.”

  “I was true to my mate.”

  “You were.” That was like a punch to the gut, and he kissed Sam again, lingering.

  Sam curled around him, a restless purr vibrating against him.

  “I got you.” He didn’t know what else to do but pet that too-skinny body. It seemed to give them both comfort.

  Slowly, almost painfully, Sam shifted, relaxing into him, going fuzzy. Oh, fuck. Thank God. That meant Sam would really start to heal now. He curled around his Puss, growling softly as his fingers worked through the heavy pelt.

  They would rest together, get Sam well. Then they’d find a place to call theirs. Just theirs.

  That heavy tail landed on him, holding him close. Gus grinned. Who the hell was he kidding? Home was where Sam was.

  Period.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  SAM WOKE up to silence, dark, and for a long minute, he stayed perfectly still before he panicked, tail lashing, claws digging into the mattress.

  Out.

  Out.

  Out.

  Something, someone caught him before he fell, which he was about to do, sharp teeth closing on his neck, grabbing his ruff.

  He yowled, his body trying to draw up, relax, the motion instinctive.

  The one who held him shook him a little, then pushed him back down on the bed he’d been on, which was soft. The scent was so familiar, the big body warm…. Then Gray barked, and Sam recognized his brother.

  He mewled softly, pushing closer. Brother. Brother, I was so scared.

  Gray barked a little more, talking to him, just letting him know it was okay now. Sam was safe.

  Safe. He nuzzled into Gray’s throat, purring hard. Gray licked his whiskers, missing a little the third time and getting his eyeball. Ew.

  He rolled off the bed, his back legs not working right, awkward and heavy and odd. He turned to bite at them. Gray barked again, biting his ear. Sam swiped at Gray, aggravated. They needed chewing.

  “Are you going to wake up the girls too, or just me?” Gus came in, wrapped in a crazy flannel robe, hair sticking up all over. He had a cup of coffee in one hand, so Sam thought maybe Gus had been awake and had asked Gray to sit with him.

  He yowled and hissed, explaining clearly that he’d been asleep and now he wasn’t. Now he needed his legs fixed. Gray barked along in chorus, and Gus rolled his eyes.

  “God help me. I thought it was you and Pete who were always trouble. Gray always seemed so quiet.” Gus gave Gray a quelling look, which wouldn’t help at all, since Gray couldn’t see.

  Sam chuffed, leaning into Gray as his brother mouthed him lazily.

  “Better? You want something to eat, babe?”

  Sam pulled himself over to his mate, landed heavily on the man’s legs, and bit Gus’s thigh. Why hadn’t he spent more time as a cat?

  Gus snorted. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Gus set the coffee on the rustic wooden dresser and hauled him up, carrying him with an ease that belied the man’s human body. Sam leaned, nose against Gus’s throat, inhaling a scent that was… home.

  They didn’t go back to the bed. They went out to the main room of the little cabin, where a soft couch was outfitted with quilts. Gus placed him on the couch before going to find him food. Sam curled up, nose to tail for a second before he started chewing on his legs again. Something tugged at his ear again, Gray hopping up next to him on the couch.

  He swatted one flank, purred, oddly happy. His family, or at least part of them, were there, and Gus was making something that smelled amazing, making his whiskers twitch. Every time he chewed his back, Gray stopped him, so he grabbed one leg, started gnawing. When he got a mouthful of Gray’s jowl, though, he stopped. Oh, yuck. Slimy. Gray laughed at him, and he started grooming, cleaning Gray’s face. They were well into an obsessive lick-fest when Helena came in, very human, wearing jeans and a sweater, looking tired but comfy.

  “You two and the licking.”

  Sam tried to lash his tail, which sort of worked, but it was Gray who pounced on her, big body taking her down. Oh, Helena was going to scream.

  She did, grabbing Gray’s ears and yanking. Gray howled, Helena growled, and Gus came over to swat Gray with a spatula. God, this was hilarious. Sam watched, his claws pressing in and out on his front paws. Oh, he wanted to play.

  “Don’t you laugh at me, Sammy.” Helena’s growl snapped out, and that just made him more tickled.

  Sam yawned, his teeth aching a little. Hungry. He yowled, batting at the air.

  Gus came out with bowls of food. “Everybody lose the fur. Time to eat.”

  Right. Lose the fur.

  He concentrated.

  Nothing.

  “Sam?” Helena came over to stroke his ears. “Can you try?”

  He looked at her, at Gus, yowled. He was. He was trying.

  Skin. Legs. Human. Human. Dancing. He liked dancing, just like he liked food. He liked being human with Gus. Hmm.

  “Sammy?” Gray nosed him as Helena fretted, howled.

  “You leave him alone, huh?” Gus came over to stroke his ears.

  “He’s fuzzy. He’s never fuzzy when the moon’s not full.”

  “He’s healing.” Gus grinned, tugging the tip of his ear, making it twitch. “And he’s never fuzzy when the moon isn’t full, just like you said. I would bet his body isn’t used to switching at will. He’ll learn.”

  The ease in Gus’s voice relaxed him. If his mate wasn’t worried, he didn’t need to be. He rubbed lazily on Gus’s legs, letting his purrs out.

  “See? Comfy kitty.” Gus scratched him a few more moments before heading off to cook some more.

  He cuddled back on the sofa, Gray sitting with him. Helena finally stopped fussing and joined them, curling up down at his feet. It was good, to be with family again, to be warm and happy.

  To be safe. He yowled softly, curious about Marina.

  “She’s sleeping,” Gus answered absently. “Don’t worry.”

  Silence filled the room until Gus looked up from his frying pan. “What?”

  Helena stared. “You can understand him?”

  Sam snorted, bared his teeth. Of course Gus could.

  Gus blinked. “Why shouldn’t I? He’s my mate.”

  “He’s feline.”

  “Uh-huh.” Gus was frowning now, taking the food off the heat. “We’re still mates.”

  Sam yowled softly. It smelled so good. So good.

  “Hungry, babe?” Gus grinned over at him, sliding stuff on a plate before bringing it to him.

  Yum. Sausages. He propped
himself up on his forelegs, eating eagerly. Food. Real food. Good food. Gus was a good mate, providing for him. Gray tried to steal a bite, and he bit Gray’s nose.

  Everyone got food, even Marina, who came wandering in, wrapped in blankets. She looked tired, but the hard lines of stress were fading from around her mouth.

  Before she ate, Marina settled next to him, smoothed his fur. She was sweet. So lonely too. She was going to be so surprised to meet the pack.

  He tried out some purring, but he was very busy eating, very busy lapping the bowl of milk Gus brought him. Milk was almost as good as tuna. Not quite, but he guessed tuna might be hard to come by in a cabin in Maine.

  He was full too soon and wanted his mate, wanted to touch, to snuggle.

  His head was bobbing a little when Gus finally came over, grinning down at him. “Okay. I fed you all. Now, get out so me and my mate can bond some.”

  Helena flipped them off, and Gray harrumphed, but Marina led them out. “Please. Let’s nap.”

  “I have to go, Gus. Sammy.” Helena came, scratched his ears. “I love you, brother. Don’t scare me like that again.”

  He yowled; he loved her. Dearly, but he just wanted Gus.

  Gus patted Helena awkwardly on the back. “We’ll see you back home when we drop Marina off.”

  “No, you won’t. I’ll be in Chicago. You’ll just have to come see me.”

  “Right.” Now Gus smacked her on the ass, the sound popping. “Grumpy.”

  “Bitch.” Helena snapped, then went to go, worry written in the lines of her shoulders.

  Gray barked and went to stand with his paws on her shoulders. That was a lot of licking. Puppies.

  Sam snagged Gus’s ass with one paw, dragged him down. His.

  Gus hooted, falling beside him on the sofa, one arm wrapping around him. “Hey, Puss.”

  He nuzzled Gus’s jaw, purred. Pup.

  That had Gus laughing again, just rubbing his ears and snorting. “I am so not.”

  He wiggled up until he could put his paws on either side of Gus’s face, started grooming. His Pup. His mate. I knew you’d come for me. I knew.

  Gus nuzzled him, making these low noises. It was just what he needed to help heal.

  He spent long minutes grooming his Gus before settling down. It was harder to groom a human, but he managed. His belly was full, his brain slowing down, panic mode finally fading.

  He scented Gus’s jaw, barely holding on, not even quite awake. Gus returned the grooming favor, hands sliding through his fur, rubbing his sore muscles. Even the scabs were stroked, the soreness fading fast. Maybe it was true, the whole healing faster when furry thing.

  There was a lot about being a shifter that he just didn’t know for sure. He’d always been so regimented.

  It didn’t matter.

  If nothing else, he knew that. Right now, it didn’t matter.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  GUS WATCHED Sam sleep, watched the end of that tail twitch as his kitty dreamed.

  That was the problem, though. It had been a week. Sam’s wounds were all but healed, aside from some lingering stiffness in his back end and one deep wound on his right back leg, near the badly set bone, that wasn’t wanting to close up. The issue was that Sam hadn’t shifted back into a human. At all.

  It wasn’t near the moon yet, but it should be easy.

  Sam just didn’t seem to want to change. He could tell Sam was trying. It would be nice if he could talk to Sam, really talk. They were hearing random thoughts, but they needed to talk to each other, damn it. Gray and Marina were no help at all.

  He growled a little, walked over and tugged Sam’s tail, maybe a little too hard. Sam popped up, yowling.

  “Sam! Yoo-hoo. Can you hear me, Sam?”

  Sam growled at him, stretched, showed him long white claws.

  “Uh-huh. That’s nice, Puss. Come out and talk to me, damn it.” He’d been nice. Sugary sweet. It was time to get back to his real ways.

  Sam swatted him, vocalizing furiously. He knew Sam was trying, but damn it, the man needed to try harder. He needed his mate, and if folks thought they were an odd couple as people, when they were furry, it was worse. He tugged that amazing tail again.

  “Hu-man. Come on, Puss.”

  He hated how awkward those back legs were. Gus thought that was part of why Sam hadn’t come back to him—if he hated it, they had to be making Sam crazy.

  “Come on, babe. Please.” He hated begging, but he wanted to hear that sensual little voice, wanted Sam to touch him. Oh, they weren’t ready to do the nasty; he just wanted to feel. He cupped Sam’s face, fingers stroking Sam’s whiskers. Pay attention. Wake up. Come to me.

  Sam shook, chirruping, trying so hard.

  “You can do it, babe. You can. Come on.” He smiled, kissed the tip of that nose. He could see Sammy’s face in there, see his mate. It shimmered, and Gus hoped with all his might. Please. Yes. Now.

  Sam screamed, the sound wild and fierce—loud enough that Gus was afraid Gray would come running—then his mate was there. Shaking, sweating, but there.

  “Oh, Jesus, babe.” Gus grabbed Sam up in a hug, holding that lean body close to his.

  “Gus. Gus. Gus, I couldn’t remember how.”

  “It’s okay, babe. It’s okay.” He stroked Sam’s back.

  “It’s not okay. This isn’t fucking okay. My legs!”

  “Shh. They’re healing, Puss. Just going slow.”

  Sam shook his head. “They won’t be right again.”

  What was he supposed to say to that? It was true. Oh, Sam would no doubt have more mobility than most folks, but they would never be Sam’s legs. “I’m sorry.”

  Sam turned away from him, lurching off the bed toward the bathroom.

  He let Sam go for a minute. He would hear if Sam needed him, and sometimes a guy needed a moment.

  The water started running, and then he heard glass shatter right before there was a thump, probably Sam staggering into the tub. Gus sprang up and headed into the bathroom, just to make sure nothing important was damaged. The mirror above the sink was gone, shattered, and Sam was hunched in the tub, face up toward the spray.

  “That might cost us extra, babe.”

  “I’ll pay it.” Sam wouldn’t look at him. “I’ve got money.”

  “Oh, fuck that.” Gus sat next to the tub, his hand on Sam’s arm. “I just missed you.”

  “I’m fucked-up. I don’t like it.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Still, it was good to see Sam’s human face. “I like that I can do this, though.” Gus pulled Sam over, out of the spray, and kissed him.

  The connection hit him like a freight train, slamming into his body and rocking him. Oh, fuck. This was what they needed. Their bond was so new. It wasn’t fragile, really, just stronger when they touched.

  Gus wrapped his fingers around Sam’s ass, keeping the touch gentle, light, but he couldn’t let the contact lessen. He needed this so bad, wanted to feel Sam against him, needed to taste and touch and just be. He held Sam against him, letting one kiss melt into another and another and another, Sam pushing happy sounds into him. They didn’t get all hot and heavy. Well, Sam was heavy, but it was a good feeling. They just sort of wallowed in each other.

  “You smell good. Not like smoke.” Sam lapped water off his jaw with a rough tongue.

  “So do you.” It was true, now that Sam was smelling like him again, not like that place or like medicine.

  “If we go back to bed and touch, we don’t have to think.” Smart Puss.

  “This is true.” He turned off the water and rose, lifting Sam in his arms. Kitty needed a sandwich. A sandwich and a good vet.

  He chuckled a little before easing Sam down on the bed, bending to kiss that hot mouth again. Sam’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, drew him down closer. He was all for not thinking, so he stretched out next to his lover, lips on Sam’s chin.

  “You’re warm.” That soft purring was starting again.

&nbs
p; Gus liked that sound. It was so happy, so much better than snarling, or the pained sounds Sam made when he chewed his legs in kitty form. Sam’s fingers opened and closed, like his Puss was rolling dough. Kneading.

  “Feeling better, Puss?” Gus was. His cock was half-hard, his body thrumming with the energy between them.

  “Yes. Stay with me.”

  Gus swore he could feel Sam getting stronger.

  “I’m right here.” He didn’t want to be anywhere but where he was. This was too fine.

  He slid his hands over Sam’s body, pushing a little harder now, working the muscles a little deeper. He wanted to ease the pain, move the sore muscles a little, get the blood flowing.

  Sam moaned, the sound a mixture of sore and pure pleasure. Gus understood that. Sometimes it had to hurt to feel better. A man had to heal.

  “Don’t stop.” Sam arched, almost impossibly, body rippling. “Gus.”

  That lean form was already more flexible, the angry red marks fading. So fucking fine. He flipped Sam, straddled the man’s hips, hands on the bunched muscles. He could smell Sam now—male and strong and good. When he found a knot, Sam gasped, but he didn’t back off. This would heal. They would all heal. He could feel it, like Sam’s body was telling his fingers. It made him want to purr, except he wasn’t a kitty.

  He leaned down, nosed Sam’s nape. He had to sniff there, let his tongue drag over that pale skin. Sam shivered for him, and Gus rubbed his cheek over the spot, sharing scent.

  His.

  The more he touched, the better he felt, the more real the fucking world seemed. It was crazy, how fast this whole thing with Sam had happened, how easily he’d let his mate in once he realized they were meant to be together. He rubbed his nose along Sam’s hairline, humming.

  Sam’s purrs joined with his sounds, rolling between them as they melted together. Gus held Sam close, fingers digging into the flesh of Sam’s hip. Time to get to the really tough part. Legs. Gus kept vocalizing, refusing to tense up, to give Sam warning or reason to stress it. Then he worked his way down, moving over Sam’s ass, then to the tops of the long thighs.

  “I don’t think….”