Disclaimer: No, I don't own Kuroshitsuji, but wouldn't it be terrifyingly delicious if I did?
Dedication: To the one with the razor blade smile that gleams like the moon.
Tea parties were positively –boring-; all the same dry biscuits and too many sugar cubes drowned in too little tea, and far too –overdone- now. It was as though every time some little chit came crashing down into their world, it had to be made into some sort of a celebration. Didn't The Hatter and the Hare and everyone else know that there were so many more ~interesting things to do, like stalk a particularly yummy White Rabbit?
The Cat swished her tail irritably from her once-favourite place beneath the table, mostly unseen unless you were looking for her properly. She was very easy to get along with, except when she wasn't, and today was not looking to be a very good prospect, from here anyway. Right then.
With a growling snarl that might have been a sound a Cat made once upon a time ago, or two pages back, she couldn't be bothered with remembering silly things like Time, she stood, and completely unsettled the entire table with mixed results.
On the one hand, the Dormouse did not stir, nor raise his head to see what had made such a racket. On the other, the Hare looked most put out to abruptly find himself dripping with tea so sugary sweet that it could stand on its own. On the other, other hand, which was technically a foot (but no one bothered with technicalities these days), the Hatter was so amused that he possibly split a rib as he laughed raucously, and began throwing teacups and saucers and all manner of place settings to the not-so-generous graces of the ground, and jerked the tablecloth clean off of the table. Well, he at least seemed to be having fun. This did not appear to appease the sticky stick-in-the-mud who gave the Cat a Very Disapproving Look, and ooh she –hadn't- seen that one in a while! He had the most delicious expressions when he was displeased, her Hare.
A ~proper seeing to without the need for cumbersome things like, words.
But, sour face or no, he just wasn't the right, flavour this sliver of after-near-tea time, as she proved when she gave his cheek a fond lick and wasn't at all satisfied with what she found. Well! That certainly wasn't necessary! She pulled away with an affronted expression. There was absolutely no need to splash her face with cream. She'd had a bowl this morning.
The Cat tossed her head haughtily and was she less of a lady, might have swiped at him. On principle, you understand. It was always a poor idea to offend a Cat.
"See if I ever play with –you- again! Harumph and good riddance!" And she stalked away, such a strike against her dignity perhaps adding a little more sashay to her walk than normal. But then again, she –was- off to find the Rabbit, who at least wasn't physically violent, though he could certainly do with a bit more ~physicality in his same old routine of leading Alice's hither and dither as often as they fell from the sky to interrupt her hunt as you please. They were so rude that way.
This one was especially lacklustre, and very angst-ridden, not even pretending to enjoy his tea like the rest of them. No one –really- enjoyed sixty-six cubes of sugar in their Darjeeling after all, except perhaps for the Hatter, but he was quite the odd duck. And she'd known her share of ducks. There wasn't room for such nonsense here. It was entirely the wrong sort of nonsense, because it could make sense if viewed head on, and that simply wasn't acceptable. ~Everyone knew that the only way to approach nonsense, was through a rightly cracked mirror; this was its untruly true appearance.
In any case, she had a better quarry to chase than some silly little boy, and though she was no dreary, discombobulated Dog; it was easy enough to follow his footprints in the freshly fallen snow. Spring was –such- a funny season that way, blanketing vibrant flowers in a pure, white cradle though they never died. Nothing ever died in Wonderland, save by the Queen's decree.
Chasing a Rabbit was not so very different from chasing a Mouse, except that a Rabbit had fewer places to hide. Her lips curved into a smile sharp enough to cut china, or skin a Rabbit, not that she had half a mind to. Before it could change to the other half, she spotted her unsuspecting target. Or at least she assumed he was unsuspecting. What normal Rabbit would simply stay conveniently put when being tracked by a curious Cat anyway? Certainly not this one. She had the feeling that he rarely stayed in the same place for long.
"It's so nice to see you again," she purred, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind like a cosy noose. It was a bit of a stretch to do so, but that was one of the benefits of appropriate heels; they made her nearly his height, the perfect height to nip his vulnerable ears. She hadn't been entirely sure just –how- susceptible they might be, until he emitted a strange sort of growl she hadn't known Rabbits were capable of making. It was always such a delight to discover new things!
The Rabbit was not altogether fond of surprises, particularly when he hadn't been informed of them ahead of time, and even more so when he had somewhere to be, as he always did. In fact, at this moment he was supposed to be guiding Alice to the next part of the game, and she was making him Late. He really couldn't abide by tardiness, or with having his ears touched. Damn that Cat; she'd managed to both make him twitch, -and- delay him in one sitting. If he were a generous sort of Rabbit, he might award her points for that. But she knew as well as he, that he was most definitely not that sort.
"If you would be so kind as to find someone else to chew on, Cat, I would be extremely grateful. A Rabbit's ears are delicate appendages after all." He mulled it over a moment; it wasn't likely to make a bit of difference to her one way or another, but it was worth a try. "Much as though I wouldn't imagine you enjoyed it when the first Alice pulled your tail?"
She gave the back of his head a palpably dark look, so strongly had she disliked –that-. Indeed, she'd nearly clawed the nasty child's face off.
"Oh Rabbit, why must you dredge up such unsavoury memories, when I'd ~much rather make profoundly more pleasurable ones with you?" She sounded so very convincing of course, though he couldn't seem to bring himself to be convinced, for now.
The Rabbit extricated himself from her grip, considerably stronger than any Cat had the right to be, and faced her with a vague semblance of remorse.
"I'm, sorry, Cat, but I really cannot tarry here any longer. If you'll excuse me," and he made to take his leave before realising with a start, that his pocket watch was missing.
He turned about in so many circles that he could no longer find where he'd begun, until a flash of silver caught his eye from the Cat's direction, at least where he'd seen her last.
"Were you looking for this?" she asked in a singsong voice, coveting the 's' like a prize.
Puzzled, he moved to retrieve it, but gloved hands brushed only her hair as she drew it to her chest and out of his reach. Now mildly annoyed, he quipped,
"I don't have the time for this. What do you want? I need that."
The smile that split her face was the sort of grin a crocodile might show to a fish.
"Me? Why, I want what every Cat wants. Kittens, Rabbit."
The blood drained from the poor Rabbit's face so quickly he might have been in danger of fainting was he not made of sterner stuff.
"I most certainly cannot give you that!"
She winked; clawed fingertips sent his nerves into a tilt-o-whirl where they created familiar but long-forgotten sensations as they skittered up his arms.
"Well, you can ~try."
He really wasn't sure what to say to that. Oh forget it, he could get another watch, even if he –was- rather attached to that one. He could feel the seconds becoming minutes, and the minutes stretching to the breaking point and past. It was not a pleasant sensation.
Quite done with this situation altogether, the Rabbit pivoted on his well-dressed heel, and in so doing, made a fatal mistake. Never, turn your back on a predator. Pretty kitties often sheathed even prettier claws.
For the second time, and hopefully not the last that day, she purred. Ooh, so he –did- want to play! Quick as a Cat, and quiet as a Mouse, she had his back pinned against the nearest ivy-frosted tree, and pressed her leg forward to separate his, drawing her flush with his chest, and certain other parts of his anatomy that he was rather partial to keeping intact. Well, she had his attention now. And his lower lip. How had that happened and –how- had it happened without his express permission? It was only fair to ask permission first, and if the rules had changed in the last twenty minutes he ~really didn't want to know about it. He just wanted, wait, what was it that he wanted again?
"I can't think properly when you do that, you know," he said mildly, attempting to rescue himself from her unnaturally sharp teeth, and split his lip in the process. The Cat, damn her, merely lapped at the bright red blood as it trickled down and watched him with eyes so dark that they threatened to make him forget, forget, something. Double damn. "Stop it," he insisted, though precisely why he ought to insist was becoming hard to hold onto, though –she- certainly wasn't. In fact, she was remarkably easy to hold until she started moving against him.
Why was it wriggling? For the love of all things white and red, God save the Queen, why was it wriggling? Whatever he'd been about to mumble, whimper, that is, protest, was lost to the grave of her merciless mouth as she kissed him for the first time, unyielding and too hot, too close, too –much. If he wasn't careful, she might very well burn him alive.
She clawed her way up his back, and in so doing shredded his coat beyond repair, and on the way down, shredded it beyond even hope. He'd be lucky to get back in one piece at this rate, and Heaven help him (pardon his French) if it didn't make his throat go dry, and eradicate all other neural functions while she was at it. This couldn't end well for him, but once things got started (and at this point they most certainly had), it was dangerous to try and stop any of the Animals in Wonderland during Mating Season. She also had sharp teeth, and try as he might, he could neither remain unaffected, nor part the atoms of the tree that was currently supporting him and escape.
The trouble with cats, or at least this Cat, was that they were exceedingly determined, and this determination often led to –results.- Whether they were necessarily the results she'd been aiming for were a matter for a different day, but she definitely teased a reaction out of him that he hadn't precisely been expecting. It wasn't every day that he was ambushed, particularly by a Cat. Evidently at least parts of him found this, intriguing. There was nowhere to hide from her, and of course, she couldn't keep her mouth shut and keep doing, whatever it was exactly that her hands were doing about his-
"Oh!" the Rabbit exclaimed, and his body went rigid from head to toe as her teeth sank first into his neck, and then his ear and for the first time in what was likely long enough to be, overdue, his duty fell by the wayside in light of other activities.
"Goodness, I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," she ignored his muttered, 'Not bloody likely,' in favour of taunting him, just a bit. "Or perhaps," and her voice dropped an octave, from provocative, to illegal, not that many things were, "perhaps you've forgotten how. Do I need to remind you?" she purred helpfully in pure feline delight against his skin.
"Help me," he moaned to the desolate forest bearing witness to this desecration.
"No one is around to hear you ~scream."
A slightly exasperated Rabbit interrupts right about now. "Really? Is this really how you suppose a situation like this would play out? Do you just expect me to take this lying down, er, against a tree, rather?"
"How could you just break the wall like that? Readers are delicate creatures you know? Now get back to it if you know what's good for you." He did not imagine the threat in her voice.
"You know Cat, if that's what you wanted, why was any of this necessary? I wouldn't have expected you to go to such trouble for, what is it called, roleplay?" The swift snap of her teeth a scant centimetre from his throat made her message crystal clear. "As you wish." He surveyed her curiously. "Now, what was my line?"
She didn't appear to notice the subtle shift in his features as the rules of the game performed an abrupt about-face, but that was just as well. It ought to make things more ~interesting this way, and he was all about interest. The Cat had accrued a substantial amount, and was about to be paid back in spades, and hearts and clubs (and diamonds if she was extremely lucky. But that came later.)
He played along long enough find an opening, and in that brief moment of confusion, made his escape, pushing her a mite harder perhaps than he'd originally intended, but things had changed after all, and she needed to know that.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I do have somewhere to be," he said as cool as you please, and had the gall to bow as he just left her sprawled in a twist of empty paws and indignant tail. Bewildered, and more than a little hurt, she watched him –leave- her there. She couldn't quite muster a hiss, but the tears came easily enough as he disappeared into the dense line of trees.
"Damn you," she whispered, pulling herself into a protective ball, resolutely ignoring the traitors slipping down her cheeks. This wasn't fun anymore.
He didn't want to listen to her cry, but the timing had to be just right or else she'd know both that he'd seen her cry, and that he'd been standing in the shadows watching her for the better part of five minutes. She'd be positively –unbearable-. He calculated that about now would be the perfect time for some rustling. Rustle he did, and she snapped her head up exactly the way he thought she would. He smiled, or something like it anyway, and waited a moment before moving closer, but still out of sight. She was beginning to pay attention.
"What was that?" The Cat asked, nearly successful in keeping the apprehension out of her voice.
The Rabbit allowed the unnatural silence to speak for him, breaking it only with the stirring of leaves and intermittent noises that no animal throat should be able to reproduce, but he'd been practicing.
She carefully inspected her claws, pristine and pointy. She liked pointy things. And though her heart was hammering for an entirely different reason, she tried again. "I'm only going to ask you once. Who are you?" It was quite obvious that whatever lie beyond the cover of forest was no creature she had ever played with before.
Yes. And so the perfect time had struck. He moved with a swift grace that positioned him just behind her as she turned to confront him, and replied in a husky tone that sounded nothing like him. "The big, bad wolf," he whispered into her ear, shielding his own from her peripheral vision. "And this is the part where you run," he said, trailing off in what he knew to be a very believable growl.
She did. And quickly. In fact, the Cat hadn't sprinted so fast in all of her nine lives combined until that very moment. She tore through the snow-topped flowers and branches that snatched at her ankles like a thing possessed, sheer superfluous desire to GET AWAY guiding her steps to precisely where he'd intended. And right about now…
She came to a screeching one-point stop that would have made any Californian proud, were there any Californians to see it, put her paws on her hips, and spun around to confront whatever the hell had been chasing her.
"Hang on just a mo'! There –aren't- any wolves in Wonderland!" Her pupils dilated to adjust to the changing shapes and lengthening shadows that tried to trick her into being ~afraid. And her eyes widened in surprise. "You? But that's…"
He observed her pleasantly enough, if one chose to ignore the distinctly hungry edge in how he observed her. "Me," he agreed, taking a step closer. "Were you expecting someone else?" He tilted his head to the side curiously, and most likely only –seemed- to be considering the way she might taste.
"But, but that's not in the script!" She blustered, staring at him uncomprehendingly, forgetting temporarily about the fact that she wasn't exactly happy with him.
"Indeed?" asked the Rabbit, though the question mark was purely perfunctory. "Perhaps it's time that we throw it away then." So saying, he pulled the working script from his pocket, and shredded it to pieces. Her mouth dropped open in horror as she watched the fragments dash themselves upon the mercy of the wind and scatter like mice.
"And just what are we supposed to do now, pray tell?" After all, every actress worth her weight in dialogue knew that the show must go on.
And without warning, because he hadn't ever given it before, he was behind her, arms wrapping tightly around her waist, muttering words like so many caresses against her skin. "You see, I think it should go rather more, like, this." He sank his teeth into the side of her neck, and hooked his foot around hers, pitting his weight against hers, and throwing her off balance so that they tumbled together down to the cushioned forest floor.
He all but crushed her against him, tangled his hand in her hair and yanked her head back as he nipped her lower lip, -hard-, taking full advantage of her gasp to set about learning the taste of her mouth. Slightly stunned, the Cat wasn't altogether sure how she'd ended up on her paws and knees, looking over her shoulder to be kissed very thoroughly but she wasn't going to complain so long as he didn't try to run away again. She really didn't appreciate being left hanging, but if the way he was attempting to devour her –through- her clothes was any indication, he wasn't going to.
Let it never be said again that a Rabbit could not be a predator, because in that moment when his gloved hands found her hips and flipped her onto her back before she could say, "Yes, please," the look on his face as he hovered over her like some sort of bird of prey contemplating its next victim was most assuredly, definitively, -feral.- She grinned up at him enticingly even as her heart galloped in her chest.
"Were you especially partial to this shirt?" she asked in a saccharine-sweet voice that could have been innocent if not for the way that her tail twitched just so, accidentally on purpose putting the contours of her body on perfect display.
Cheeky. He could admire it after a fashion. "If you also destroy my shirt after my tailcoat, I may be forced to take drastic measures." He left it at that, and so would she. And with that explained, he set to work divesting her of various articles of clothing that were getting in the way. However, he took considerably more care than she had.
With no more words lost between them, he tugged off his gloves and traced the shell of a soft ear, rubbing it gently with first his fingers and then his lips until she began to squirm. Having an ounce of compassion (but no more), he took something like pity on her, and pulled her to him where her shirt appeared to unbutton itself, and she mewed in surprise, covering herself with her paws.
He'd be having none of that, and gently tugged her arms away so that he might study her more closely. As soon as he released them, they sprang back into place, and he sighed softly against her. Patience… Taking a leisurely journey down her body he paused at her neck, which he could not resist the urge to mark for the world to see. Why it mattered, he couldn't say, but he –had- to nip and suck at her skin until it reached an acceptable shade of crimson. Much as he might like to see how far he could take it, certain parts of him demanded that he get on with the show before he embarrassed himself and had to placate a very angry kitty.
He spread his gloved hands across her chest and taunted them both just a little more by returning to her mouth, and drew her tongue out to twine with his as he coaxed her to relax by degrees, and gradually, her arms came around his neck rather than trying to shield herself from his eyes. And he intended to look.
The Rabbit shifted his attention to her collarbone, and was pleasantly surprised when her tail stroked the length of his thigh. Ah, they were getting somewhere.
Before she really knew what was happening, she'd been expertly undressed and there was very little between them, save for his trousers.
"I believe you're grossly overdressed for the occasion," she purred up at him, claws dancing a can-can down his spine, and shimmied around to tug at his waistband, dipping under it to tease him. Ooh, she hadn't known a Rabbit to hiss before. "Do you like that?" she asked, tracing tiny circles closer and closer until his hips jerked up, and gasped as he leaned into her touch.
"And –I- think that your mouth could be put to better uses than asking questions you obviously know the answer to," he snarked, and skirted her lips with his fingertips until they parted for him. Watching him closely, eyes flashing darker than the flora that sheltered them, she obliged, taking the pads of his fingers into her mouth and alternately sucking at them, and grazing them with the barest hint of her capable teeth. He breathed very slowly, and deliberately and groaned softly against the curve of her ear, nipping it as he smoothed his other hand over her ribcage, and slid it gradually up and over the swell of her chest to harass the peak stiffening rapidly beneath his touch.
He played her, poisoned her, with lips and teeth and tongue, wile and whim, and when she felt her head begin to go fuzzy, he'd bring her crashing back to the now. In a smooth motion, he transitioned his fingers from the welcoming warmth of her mouth, down, down, nudging her knees apart, and flirted with the line of her hip briefly, before plying her with mouth and impatient fingers simultaneously.
Were she the sort of lady to pant, she might have done so then. Instead, delicate claws slid through his hair, little electric jolts brought to life along the Rabbit's scalp, a slender thigh coming up to rest casually over his shoulder and trembled under the onslaught of pure, sinful, sensation.
There was something to be said for someone who knew what they were doing, she decided, dazed, dizzy and bordering on delirious as she couldn't quite choke back a noise dangerously close to a howl when she plummeted over the edge for the first time. She clung to him like a limpet, nails raking down his back, leaving little rivulets of red in their wake as she struggled to reorient herself.
He wasn't going to give her the time to recover, and instead set about making her fall apart in his hands, through any means necessary. He supported her low back with his palms, and entered her in one smooth arch of his hips.
"Move with me," he insisted against her lips, allowing no room for any other choice. There was nowhere to escape him. She could feel him all over her, could smell his scent mixing with hers, and moaned softly in the back of her throat as she joined the blissful world of non-thinking. It felt a lot like napping in the sun, only with much more action.
The Rabbit continued to assault her senses, leaving her nerves raw and jangling as he relentlessly drove into her, angling himself just so, and made her fly until pure need won out, and the final time, he plunged after her, feeling her clench around him until he was nearly as weary as she, shuddering in his arms.
Nothing but the sound of their own breathing broke the silence until she nudged him off of her, and appeared to be settling down to take a nap on his chest, kneading it with her paws contentedly. Were she any other creature, she'd be nigh into a coma once having experienced his ardor. He supposed it was something of an enigma.
"Me-ow!" said one very satisfied Cat.
There wasn't much that he could say to that.
A few months later, the Rabbit happened upon a most surreal scene of surreal scenes when he passed through the Tea Party. He wasn't sure when he'd seen the Hare look quite so displeased. Wait, was he speaking to him? Mildly bemused, he listened.
"Would you kindly take this?" The Hare spat, shoving something small and furry with striped, rabbit ears, and a long, striped tail. Oh dear. "Seeing as how it's yours."
"W-what?" spluttered the Rabbit, observing the small creature currently observing him critically before seeming to decide that his arms were the perfect place to snuggle into. "What the hell am I supposed to do with it?"
"Take responsibility for your actions," replied the Hare acidly.
"And don't forget the basket wi' the others," muttered the Dormouse briefly before falling back onto the table with a snore.
"Wait, there are MORE?" asked the Rabbit with a helpless sort of voice, bordering on panic. "But, but, HOW did this happen?" he appeared to be drowning in the sheer –impossibilities- where he stood.
The Hatter's signature laughter cut through his encroaching hysteria.
"Well, Rabbit, in the Spring…"
The End, for real