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James might have mewled as Ed stroked his hand down his back and along his tail. God, that felt so good. But then Ed followed it by tangling his fingers in his hair, and rubbing him behind his cat ears, and James couldn't help leaning in to the sensations.

James was quite a long skinny cat, if he was being honest. He took up a lot of space as he lay down across the sofa, and across Ed's lap. The cat thing hadn't necessarily been his idea, but when he'd bought a little set of cat ears on a headband for a joke, Ed had told him how cute he looked, and it had kind of just spiralled from there.

But James didn't mind. He liked being a cat. Ed's cat. He had a collar and everything, with his name on it. It was a fancy collar too, white leather with little pearls and diamontés, because James was a very fancy cat. He often saw himself as a big white fluffy chincilla, the kind of cat that goes to cat shows and gets all this love and attention from their owners and groomed all the time, and fed the best food, and looks just so fucking amazing. That was the kind of cat James saw himself as.

He often dreamed about having some paws. He'd seen them. You could buy little padded paws to go with your outfit, and proper ears, and a proper tail. He didn't want a fursuit though, he felt that was a little too weird. But he was happy to be a cat boy, with a few little bits and pieces, if it meant he could lounge possessively over Ed as he watched something boring on TV, and get all the pets and adoration he just couldn't bring himself to accept when he wasn't being Ed's cat.

That was the moment Ed decided to feed him a little piece of roast lamb, and James might have licked his fingers clean and then started licking his hand, and putting his scent all over him until Ed told him to stop and pulled his hand away, because weirdly, Ed didn't like it when James just wanted to lick his entire body. James scowled. How could he be a proper cat if he wasn't allowed to lick him?

He made his displeasure known by moving away from him and curling up with his back to him, which was not an easy task on the sofa, but he did it anyway. And he made a point of swiping at Ed's hand when he tried to stroke him. He might have hissed too and threatened to bite him. This earned him a swift slap, and James hissed again and slid off the sofa to go and sleep in his little bed in the corner.

That was where he stayed for at least three hours before Ed decided to take pity on him and offered him a bowl of ice cream. James sniffed disdainfully, making it clear this was all on Ed to make right. But then Ed stroked down his body, from head to tail, and James might have mewled again and instantly forgiven him because he loved being petted, and there was ice cream, so he followed Ed back to the sofa and curled up in his arms, licking his cheek in thanks before he let Ed feed him and give him little tummy rubs.

Afterwards, he curled up in Ed's arms, with his arms around him, and he might have fallen asleep to the sensation of Ed gently stroking his back and telling him what a good cat he was.