#shoutout to the Catwin Discord for sheer utter enablement

[popodoki]

Late night snack, anyone? (it's 11pm here in Belgium ok)

NSFW Catwin ficlet, again x

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Mutual masturbation.

Anything Edwin does, the Cat King will copy. Including the unraveling

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He keeps his eyes on the Cat King. The Cat King keeps his eyes on him. 

Edwin has lost all track of time. Abnormal for him; it's been trained into him, decades past, to always keep a firm grasp on how much time is passing. If not for the evening sunlight, spilling shades of orange across the floor, he wouldn't know if it were night or day. The Cat King could have had him here for hours, holding him prisoner, with symbolic force. 

There's a little part of his mind telling him he shouldn't be here, shouldn't feel so damnably captivated, but he cuts it off cold. His instincts are hard won, usually correct, but the way those slitted golden eyes look at him, there is far too much potential for him to back away now. The other man is utterly calm, sitting so very still, eyes taking Edwin in like he's memorising every line in his skin. A transient calm, something deadly behind it, the smug serenity of a predator with a full belly. Edwin can already feel sharp teeth bursting through his skin. 

He's so aroused he thinks he might be shaking. 

Edwin opens his mouth to speak. 

The Cat King cocks his head to one side, just slightly. Raises his eyebrows, just slightly. 

Edwin closes his mouth. 

He can't move; he's too aroused, out of control of himself. He can't move; the Cat King would let him. He can't move; if he does, this might stop. He holds himself still. 

“Good boy.” The Cat King says, a husky hint of sound, riding out on a pleased purr. His lips shift, and Edwin wonders if it counts for a smile or a smirk, but before he can decide, the other leans back, raises his legs, and shifts further back on the decadently covered bed. He raises an eyebrow, lightly. 

Edwin takes off his gloves, his coat. His hands hesitate, fingers stilling on each end of his bowtie.  

The Cat King lies on the bed, clad only in olive-green silk pants, a matching robe. Edwin’s eyes catch on the gold necklaces around his neck, following as the other hooks his fingers and slowly tug, tugs them past and over his head. The chains shimmer in the evening light, before they’re cast aside in a graceless arc off the bed. Edwin loosens his bowtie. The stripe of fabric flutters to the floor. The Cat King’s slitted eyes don’t follow. When Edwin’s fingers, with slight persistent tremor, reach the last of his shirt’s buttons, he lets the two sides hang open, a mirror to the Cat King’s open robe.  

The newly bared expanse of creamy skin only emphasizes the erection tenting Edwin’s trousers.  

On the bed, the Cat King shifts, knees spreading, splaying, displaying, catching and guiding Edwin’s eyes to the other’s own half-hard cock trapped beneath the silk. Hands kept neatly by his sides, in a mirror of Edwin’s own clenched fists hovering uncertainly next to his hips, the Cat King pushes his hips down into the soft bedding, rolling in a practiced wave. At the raise of those eyebrows, his knees’ answering tremble, Edwin’s fingers hook into the waistband of his trousers.  

Edwin knows the Cat King is attractive. It’s rather hard to miss, really. But this feels different, seeing him, bared piece by piece, at Edwin’s pace, is doing things to Edwin. Two sets of trousers meet the floor. Edwin’s mouth waters at the sight of tanned skin on display for him, because of him. Edwin’s shirt gets shrugged brusquely off his shoulders, to a soft huff of laughter from the naked man on the bed. 

Edwin’s mind drifts, the moment his fingers trace down his own neck, the safe touch, the mere promise of what’s to come, already has him reaching the hazy quiet he normally has to chase. He’s unaware that he’s closed his eyes, not until a deep low rumble from the bed has him blinking. The Cat King’s chest isn’t nearly as sensitive as his own, but oh, his own chest. Two sets of hips jerk into the air, as Edwin’s fingers trade their soft ministrations for a sharp pinch. Edwin gasps soundlessly at the sting, the Cat King moans loudly at the sight of Edwin losing himself to his pleasure. From beneath the Cat King’s fingers, Edwin spots the glint of steel, the little bars of his piercings tugged and twisted, in time with Edwin’s own nipples. His cock throbs, imagining how much it would hurt, could hurt, if he- 

Edwin’s right hand shoots down, clenching in a punishing grip around the base of his cock. On the bed, the Cat King groans. Before the other can replicate the sudden move, Edwin strides forward. From his new position, perched on his knees above and bracketing the Cat King’s lower legs, Edwin takes a few deep breaths, smiling with open lips as the Cat King’s hands hover over Edwin’s thighs for only a second or two before he lifts them to instead grab fistfuls of the soft bedding next to his head. “Good boy.”  

It’s definitely a bit too soon, but Edwin relishes the sting, as his finger pushes in. Edwin glances down, sees the trail of precum dripping from the Cat King’s cock down to the bed. The Cat King’s fingers are slightly wider than his own, thicker, so Edwin tells himself it’s only better, if he drags two fingers from base to tip, gathering up the slick, before sinking the two digits all the way inside himself. He can’t tell if the cut off hiss from the body below him was a result of the slightly wider intrusion, or the touch of Edwin’s fingers on that dripping cock. With a bit more concentration, Edwin curls his fingers, hits his prostate dead on. 

Edwin’s free hand wraps fingers around a slick hot cock, moaning when the Cat King mirrors his action, a warm calloused palm sliding through the pre-cum dripping from Edwin’s slit. They’re far from in sync, but their focus is shared as they chase a common goal. It doesn’t take long after that. The air fills with articulated pleasure and hedonism, until Edwin makes a cracked, high-pitched sound, almost like a scream, and sees white, for a split second. When his vision swims back into focus, the Cat King is leaning over him, concern and self-satisfaction warring for dominance in his expression. Edwin uses the grip he somehow has on the other’s hair, to yank him down into a messy kiss.  

“Was it everything you wanted, and more?” The Cat King teases as soon as his lips are free.  

Edwin hums in thought. “And more? Perhaps, next time,” he leans a little forward and says, as commanding and seductive as he can, “I want you to ask for it.”