#clegan lcapt fic

[avonne-writes]

Carry You Home

A post-war kitty Gale (cat shifter Gale) drabble written for the "LCAPT fic off" game initiated by @middlingmay. And it’s a gift for @butdaddyilovehim99 💕 Featuring the most Gale-looking cat pic ever. Thanks @swifty-fox for brainstorming with me! (On AO3)

The sticky seed of some unfamiliar weed sticks to the fur on Gale’s legs, but he ignores the uncomfortable tugging sensation and just keeps running. Away, far away, anywhere but here. He’s done with this whole charade. To hell with it all. John can go find some other fool who can stand his goddamn womanizing.

Gale doesn’t care that it's only a facade. Sometimes, he wants to be the one being wooed and not watch John flirt with someone else. He thought... He thought they would go on a date, just the two of them, to the pretty creek in the woods close to town. All the exciting, cheerful sounds of the forest, the clear air, enough space and privacy for Gale to shift back and forth when he wanted. But John had to ruin it by chatting up three women who were on a walk.

They could have let the ladies pass and waited to be alone again, but John just had to do it, didn’t he? Maybe he didn’t want to be alone with Gale at all. He could have been looking for an excuse to cut their date short all along. Instead of laughing and walking with Gale, he charmed those girls until they were drawn to him like moths to the light, and Gale, sour in his disappointment, was left to trail behind until they finally parted ways.

Then, the fight. That terrible fight. It wasn’t too decent of Gale to snap the way he did, but it hurt so much to watch John flash his best smile at the girls, to touch their arms under one excuse or another, the way he should have touched Gale instead. Gale's tired of it. He can’t stand it anymore, to see the affection that's meant to be his given to another while he’s right there.

John didn’t understand - or didn’t want to - so, Gale shifted and ran away. It didn’t take more than five seconds and he was out of John's sight. Being small makes it easier to hide among the bushes. To disappear. He doesn’t matter anyway. He’s no one. Perhaps, he won't ever shift back again. Why bother? He’ll just live the rest of his years as a wildcat, nothing but the forest and the freedom of no expectations. He can live alone and -

"Gale!" John's cry interrupts Gale's thoughts. "Gale, please! Come on, doll, don't do this to me."

Gale stops to crouch low in the underbrush, his heart pounding wildly. His coat is too bright and clean to hide him among all the greens, browns and greys around, but he’s covered by a few thick shrubs and wide leaves where he is. He curls his fluffy tail close to his body and waits. He won't be spotted unless he moves.

"I'm sorry, okay?" John tells the forest plaintively. The canopies above them whoosh in sympathy. "I didn’t mean to hurt you, sweetheart, I didn’t mean it like that."

What you meant doesn't change anything, Gale makes a low, angry sound that John, thankfully, doesn't hear as he jogs down the path in front of Gale's hiding place.

"Shit." John mutters under his breath and runs a hand through his curls. At first, Gale thinks it's because of Gale not folding to his pleading, but a moment later, he sees the fake, wide smile that appears on John's face.

"Egan? That you?" An unfamiliar voice calls, and Gale is alarmed to see a stocky, middle-aged man with a camera approach John from the opposite direction they came from.

"Frank, buddy, the hell are you doin' out here?" John says and clasps the man's outstretched hand in greeting.

Frank launches into a long-winded story about bird watching and photography, and how his wife kicked him out of the house just to get some peace. From his vantage point under the shrubs, low on the cool forest soil, Gale can see John nodding along politely, but his eyes keep darting to the woods, searching for a flash of white that gives Gale away. After a while, Frank notices too.

"Everything okay?" He asks John, concerned.

"Yeah, just looking for my... my cat." John replies awkwardly, putting his hands on his hips the way he always does. Despite his pain and anger, Gale feels a tinge of fondness at the sight.

"You brought your cat out here?" Frank frowns. There’s something like pity in his expression, which makes Gale huff in irritation. Everything their generation does is chalked up to the fucking war, isn’t it?

"He likes going on walks with me." John says, fully turning away. "Gale!"

"Gale? Like your roommate?" Frank asks, his eyebrows trying to meet his receding hairline.

John falters for a moment, embarrassed that he slipped up in his panic to find Gale. "It’s a joke."

"Oh." Frank's face smooths out and he barks a laugh. "Let me help, the two of us will find him faster."

"Oh, I don't want to keep you."

"Nonsense." Frank claps John's shoulder. "My wife says my eyes are so keen I should've been a detective."

John chuckles good-naturedly. "If she says so, Frankie."

Frank walks towards the woods on the opposite side of the path from where Gale’s hiding. "What does your cat look like?"

John sighs. "Cream-white fur, white paws, bushy tail. Piercing blue eyes. As big as a small dog."

Sounds about right, Gale notes with satisfaction. He glares daggers at John. He hopes he can feel it.

Frank whistles. "Must be one mighty creature."

Gale preens. The sad look on John's face is especially vindicating.

"The most beautiful thing I've ever seen." John says quietly as he starts walking along the treeline again. "He's my best friend, you know. My partner. I just wish I knew what's going on in his head. It’s so hard to read him sometimes, and I don't realize I've done something wrong until it’s too late. I just want to make him happy, keep him safe."

An ache swells deep in Gale's chest and rolls through his whole body until the bitterness of his anger fades away to the illusion of salty tears. He can’t cry in this shape but he wants to. He wants it to rain down over his cheeks in big, fat drops, over the scars, for John to wipe and kiss them away, to whisper promises he can’t keep and tell Gale he loves him more than anything. He wants that, still - it hurts, but he wants it. As his impulsiveness vanishes, he realizes that life in the forest wouldn’t suffice. He would always long for Bucky.

"Sounds like a marriage." Frank snorts, shaking a few bushes that sends nearby critters running across the fallen leaves. Gale hears them scurry away from where he is.

"You bet." John laughs ruefully. "Feels like one too."

The cry escapes Gale’s throat before he could clamp down on the feeling that sparks it. It's a quiet, sad little meow but it stands out from the forest's low buzz regardless.

John's head whips up in his direction. "Gale?"

No use hiding anymore. Gale pushes himself up and walks out of the underbrush like some kicked pet, putting his paws on the path hesitantly because he’s not sure yet if he's ready to forgive everything or not. His tail rises in greeting, but when John darts towards him with a beaming, relieved smile on his face, Gale hisses at him.

"I'm sorry!" John raises his hands placatingly, then, in a quieter voice, "I'm sorry, doll."

"Oh my! What a beauty!" Frank exclaims when he spots Gale, his expression one of wonder.

Feeling shy and wary, Gale rushes over to John and weaves himself around his ankles, putting his front paws on John's right boot as he stares the stranger down. He doesn’t know where the hell the guy knows John from, doesn’t care - he just wants him to leave them alone, to give him a chance to shift back and let John give him a proper apology. He’s so focused on keeping his eyes on the man that he forgets he's angry long enough for John to stroke his head. But when the touch reminds him, he growls.

"Don’t be like that." John nudges him, then reaches lower to remove the spikelets stuck in Gale's fur. Irritated beyond belief, Gale bites his fingers, satisfied when John winces, but the hand doesn’t move far - it slides over Gale's back and combs at his fur.

"Hi Gale." Frank crouches down a few feet away, cooing like an idiot. Gale gives him a disdainful look. Honestly, this is the worst thing about being a cat. Interacting with people who want to touch him. "You weren't kidding when you said he was pretty. Never seen such a gorgeous cat in my life. What a unique colour. His fur is immaculate. And look at those eyes! Damn."

"I know." John says, all affectionate. If he thinks that's enough to make up with Gale, he’s sorely mistaken. "Sky blue."

Gale leans against John's leg. A part of him enjoys the praise. People always tend to heap it on him in this shape but never say anything when he's in his human form. His mom, for example, when he still lived in Wyoming. The only exceptions to that are Marge and John, the only people who saw the value in giving him compliments no matter how he stood in front of them. Gale learnt to take appreciation where he got it, even if it was received as a cat. Frank, of course, is unaware that Gale, the cat, and Gale, John's roommate are one and the same, but his words of awe feel good. Gale extends his legs in front of him and stretches, showing off his looks.

"If I were you, I would put a collar on him." Frank says.

"Nah, he's pretty good about comin' home to papa." John replies, a teasing note in his voice. For that, Gale reaches up to drag his clawed paws over the leg of John's trousers until John yelps and pushes him off. Frank laughs.

"Boy, my wife will be so jealous." He shakes his head, smiling. "Can I pet him?"

Gale’s answering noise of warning comes instantly.

"Ah, he doesn’t like strangers, sorry, Frankie." John says for him. Good. At least that much of Gale's feelings he does understand.

Frank waves him off and stands up. "I understand. I would love to photograph him, though. Proof for the missus." He winks.

John chuckles. Gale tilts his head back to glance at him and finds him looking back. Something he sees in Gale's eyes encourages him to reach down and scoop Gale up into his arms. It’s easier to let him than to protest.

"Why not?"

---

About a dozen photos later, John finally tries to say goodbye to Frank, but they're unlucky - the man decides to go the same way John's headed. He must be lonely, Gale figures, but it doesn't make it any less annoying that for lack of a graceful way to get out of the situation, John starts walking with the man while holding Gale in his arms.

It's comfortable, at least. Holding Gale just right in both forms has always been one of John's special talents. This time, Gale's paws dangle over his arm and his head rests in the crook of John's elbow. Since John can’t exactly put him down when he has just caught Gale after he ran away, it’s no use fighting it.

Resigned, Gale relaxes. He’s just a cat now. Loved and cherished openly where everyone can see. Something precious John can hold tight right where his heart beats, and no one bats an eye.

It’s bittersweet, but Gale will take it. The fight seeped out of him somewhere between John calling him his partner and the first apologetic caress over his silky fur. Gale tunes the conversation out and just drifts on the sense of peace and safety he feels in John's arms as the gentle sounds of the forest ripple around them along the path. After a few minutes, he falls asleep.

He doesn’t know how much time passed when he wakes up, but he’s still lying in John's arms, still warm against John's chest, but Frank is, at last, gone. They're almost at the edge of the forest, close to where their truck parks.

"Jesus Christ, finally." John blows out a noisy breath and swipes his thumbs back and forth over Gale’s fur. "Coast's clear if you wanna shift back."

Gale lets his eyes slip closed again and doesn’t move a single other muscle. He can feel John trying to lean over him to see his face better.

"Did you fall asleep?" John rocks him. As a reply, Gale moves his head in a way that looks like he’s saying no. It makes John snort. "Are you still mad at me?"

When no answer comes, John presses his face close to Gale. "Let’s talk about it."

Another shake of the head.

"What, you want me to hold you the rest of the way?"

Gale nods.

John laughs, sweet and rumbling against Gale's body. "All right, doll. I got you. I'll carry you home."

Although he knows he shouldn't, Gale purrs.

[middlingmay]

Clegan LCAPT Fic-off?

EDIT. The eagle-eyed @avonne-writes reminded me that it's Let's Create a Playlist Together - oops! So mind the updated tag if you're playing along.

The lovely @onyxsboxes has posted a list of the song titles in the amazing playlist they created for Clegan!

And there is tons of inspiration in it! So, I thought it might be fun to see if it inspires anyones ficcing.

If you want to play along, write a wee fic headcanon or drabble based on one of the songs/song titles, and post it with the tag 'Clegan LCAPT fic' and the song that inspired you!

No deadlines or anything like that, just some fun!