Chapter Text
Edwin's investigation is ultimately fruitless; while plenty of Hex regulars knew his client, nothing of substance regarding the possible circumstances or motive behind his mysterious murder is gleaned. And a sweep of the club itself had revealed only spilled drinks, scorch marks from mishandled spells, and nonsensical archaic symbols and lewd markings scratched across the bathroom walls.
"You were wrong," Edwin declares firmly to the still-purring creature in his arms as he departs the raucous, choking confines of the nightclub to walk freely into the open night air. The belly scratches he's currently giving to the cat may undercut his admonishment somewhat. "While our client was a regular here, infiltrating the Hex has given me nothing to help advance the case, let alone solve it. What do you have to say for yourself?"
The cat yawns in supreme unconcern.
"Honestly, I've half a mind to drop--oh!" A small, fiery magic missile shoots straight through Edwin's throat from behind--fatal to a human, harmless to a ghost. A half-second later, the Cat King has leapt from his arms, reverted to human form, and caught the offending sorcerer by the throat in a single, fluid motion.
With the aid of a certain truth enchantment, their assailant readily confesses to a tale of unrequited love for Edwin's client, months of unbearable heartache, and a final, deadly confrontation.
"I didn't mean to kill him," the man weeps, hunched pitifully on his knees. "I… I just couldn't take it anymore… and when I heard you were asking questions, I… I had to--"
"Get out of here," the Cat King hisses.
Following a brief look of shock, the killer obligingly scrambles to his feet and vanishes into the night.
"You're just… letting him go?" Edwin asks, taken aback.
"You've got what you need to close the case. And if he can outrun the cats, he'll have more than earned a clean slate."
"The cats?"
His eyes flash. "Specifically, the hungry ones."
*
There are no mirrors in the immediate vicinity, so they agree to simply walk until they find one. Regardless, Edwin's in no rush… job officially jobbed and all that.
"I see the catnip has worn off," Edwin says. "You were rather quick on the uptake just then."
The Cat King grins and spreads his arms. "What can I say? I've had centuries to build my tolerance."
"And if I were to ask for how long I'd been needlessly toting you around at the Hex while you were perfectly capable of managing on your own?"
He shrugs, unrepentant.
"Or how about willfully misrepresenting your situation so that I would accompany you, thereby also giving you license to treat me like your personal dress-up doll?"
He smirks. "I did warn you, didn't I? Come on, don't tell me a little white lie has gotten your panties in a bunch."
Edwin sighs. "Well, you are who you are. I'm only miffed at myself for not seeing through it. Just when I'd promised Charles I'd be more vigilant, too…"
The Cat King puts a hand on Edwin's shoulder, bringing them to a stop. "Look, kitten, I'm always up for a bit of cat-and-mouse, but it's long past time to cut the meandering bullshit. I'm bored."
Edwin swallows. "What are you talking about?"
"Just ask me."
"Ask wh--"
"Ask. Me. You know it, I know it… all that's left is to speak it into existence."
"I--I don't--"
The Cat King runs his fingers down Edwin's cheek, as light as a feather. Edwin shudders, but not from revulsion. Only with the Cat King has he known any physical sensation besides pain since his own death more than a century ago, and it's as hard to resist now as it was in Port Townsend. And it's his touch in particular that ignites something deep within, something desperate, burning, ravenous...
"I've never pursued anyone who'd be completely opposed to me, and I never will," the Cat King murmurs, his lips mere inches from Edwin's. "I respond to desire, understand? I have no control over yours, but I can help you embrace it, cast off that unwarranted shame."
Edwin doesn't need to breathe, but his breath comes quick and shallow anyway. Truthfully, only his pride and stubbornness, along with vestiges of certain era-specific sensibilities, had been preventing him from taking the Cat King up on his offer. Well that, and perhaps…
"Did you make any promises?" the Cat King says, apparently reading his mind. "To him, I mean?"
"No," Edwin says. "Not in… this area."
"Then you wouldn't be breaking any."
"I suppose not."
The Cat King raises an eyebrow, and the last of Edwin's ramshackle defenses finally crumbles to dust.
"Very well," he breathes unsteadily. "… I'm asking you."
*
An eyeblink later, Edwin finds himself in a dark pocket of undefined space where a circular silk bed takes center stage and warm light suffuses in from some ambiguous source up above.
The only other piece of furniture present is a full-length mirror, and Edwin nearly jumps out of his skin at the strange man reflected in it. It takes him a full second to recognize that the person in modern attire, with loose-curled hair and black-lined eyes, is none other than himself.
The Cat King, materializing out of seemingly nowhere, steps up behind him and gently nips at his neck while caressing his waist. Edwin's head begins to swim as he's forced to actively concentrate on remaining upright.
"Not bad, hmm?" the Cat King purrs, his breath enticingly warm against Edwin's spectral skin. "Told you I'd give you a peek. You should've seen the looks you were getting at the Hex… all those nasty, debaucherous little desires you sparked…"
Edwin briefly struggles to remember what words are. "Could be worse," he manages to gasp. In a frankly tremendous show of courage, he reaches behind him and ensnares his fingers in the Cat King's dark hair. "Maybe in another century or so, I'll come around."
*
The Cat King moves smoothly, deliberately, all sinuous assurance and lithe grace. He's pressed firmly against Edwin, pressing into him, his skin so warm--so inescapably alive--it nearly burns. His hips roll fluidly in ever-changing rhythms and depths, never allowing Edwin the chance to properly catch his breath before a newer, more exhilarating cadence replaces the last.
And as Edwin arches into him, gasping and keening against the Cat King's sharp, hungry mouth, a thought passes through his mind--brief as it is--that if this was what he'd been sent to Hell for, it would have been well worth it.
Several such breathless rounds later, a bitter knot of remorse does begin to set in, though not for the expected reasons. "I'm sorry," Edwin murmurs to the Cat King, who lays gently purring beside him amongst the tangled silk covers.
He yawns and stretches. "Ugh, for what?"
"For… using you."
He snorts. "If you're about to claim that you somehow conned me out of my maidenly virtue, I will literally throw up a hairball on you."
"This isn't fair. I'm being selfish--"
The Cat King props himself up on an elbow. "What do you take me for? You expecting me to pop the question and move us to the suburbs, settle down in domestic bliss with two-and-half kids?"
Edwin steadily, deliberately holds his gaze. "No, but I know there's more to your feelings than just… this."
The Cat King's sneer crumples slightly. "I'm a realist," he finally says. "I knew exactly what I was getting into. And if this is the full extent of your post-nut clarity, I'll call that a win." He drops back down onto the bed with a contented sigh.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it was a solid fifty-fifty on whether you'd start pointlessly belly-aching over Charles." He turns to Edwin. "There's definitely still hope on that front, by the way… trust me, I can tell. Just give him some time, and once he knows how you feel--"
"I've already told him," Edwin admits before he can stop himself. "On our way out of Hell, I…"
The Cat King springs upright so abruptly that Edwin jumps. The former's eyes are ablaze. "You told him?" he hisses with an alarming ferocity. "He knows?"
"Yes, I just said that. What on earth--?"
"And he rejected you?"
"I wouldn't quite put it in those terms--"
He vanishes in a burst of flame. Edwin blinks, then hurriedly dresses himself in only the necessary layers and heads for the mirror, instinctively knowing exactly where the Cat King's gone.
"Bloody hell…"
*
Though no more than a minute has passed between the Cat King's disappearance and Edwin's arrival back at the office, the latter finds himself barging into the middle of a ludicrous, almost comical scene--Charles bobbing and skittering across the office, brandishing a chair like a shield against a puffed-up, furiously-spitting black cat.
Charles' eyes light up at Edwin's entrance. "Mate, you're all right! What the fuck is going--"
The cat swipes at Charles' ankle. "Ow! You little bloody--" He hops backwards on one foot.
Edwin strides briskly forward and snatches up the cat, who instinctively devolves into a whirling dervish of needle-sharp claws and fangs. Inevitably, a searing line of fire erupts across Edwin's hand, but he only grimaces and holds fast--he's had worse.
The cat, however, goes soft and docile upon seeing the scratch. He looks up at Edwin, his ears drooping, his eyes round and unquestionably apologetic.
"I'm going to put you down now," he says pointedly, and crouches to do so. The cat shakes himself, chirps inquisitively, and licks Edwin's wound once, twice. Then, in another burst of flame, he's gone.
"Are you all right?" Edwin says to Charles, straightening from his crouch.
Charles twists his arm for a look at his elbow, where a couple of long, thin scratches have been etched. "Nothing a minute or two won't fix. Suppose he could've sent an army of cats to eat me if he really wanted to. All the same, that whiskery little git…" He runs a hand through his hair. "What about you? I was starting to worry, mate."
His eyes drop to Edwin's chest. The latter follows his gaze, and he sees with some embarrassment that, in addition to his unkempt, under-dressed state, his shirt buttons are misaligned.
"Right," Edwin mutters as he hurriedly fixes himself. "The Cat King and I were… well…"
A muscle jumps in Charles' jaw. "I don't need the gory details, Eds. Just tell me, did he…?"
"I was the one who initiated," he says firmly. "There was no force or coercion. It was entirely my choice, Charles."
"Really?"
"Really."
"All right. Good." Charles nods, mostly to himself. "Brills. Aces." He frowns. "Then what was he having a go at me for?"
"I might have let slip certain… things."
Charles raises his eyebrows.
"About our conversation in Hell. The Cat King seems to have taken it personally that you didn't… well… reciprocate."
Suddenly, Charles doesn't seem to know where to look. "He actually… cares for you, doesn't he?" he mutters after a long pause.
"I… I suppose so," Edwin sighs. "But I don't share his feelings, not in that way. He's well aware, of course."
At that, Charles appears to perk up. "Oh, for real?"
There's definitely still hope on that front, by the way… just give him some time…
Well, if he and Charles have anything, it's time. Edwin draws himself up and clears his throat. "Onto more relevant matters, Charles: the case has officially been solved. What's next on the docket?"
*
A small bowl of fresh, regularly-replaced water is set outside the door of the Dead Boy Detective Agency, from which a slinky black feline occasionally stops by to take a drink. While he and the occupant inside rarely cross paths, both parties know, intrinsically, that all is well.
