terajk

Title: The Form Doesn't Matter
Rating: Worksafe
Fandom: Soul Eater
Ship: Blair/Kid
Word count: 1465+
Kink: animal play
Summary: "I know this really great place for our date, Kid-chan."
Contains: Nothing explicit, but underage characters in kinky situations

She writes him messages in the sky sometimes--“Night off. Way bored. Send help”--and waits. (If she ends up waiting for a really-really long time, she sneaks around to see if he’s started the “arrange all the things” game without her and plans her move.) When he appears, finally, he always starts off this game in the same way. “Damn it, Blair.”

Blair tilts her chin, wiggles her fingers in a wave. Her nose itches to sniff up close to his face, but she’s too far away. Instead she runs her tongue over her teeth, making sure to flash her fangs. (It should signal don’t come near me but he likes it because of that left-right dealio. Actually, she’s still amused that so many not-cats like it when you bare your teeth at them, even after all this time.) “I know this really great place for our date, Kid-chan.”

Soul would be smelling of surprise and arousal already (if not blood), but Kid just rolls his eyes. He’s like that puzzle box with the treat inside that Maka gives her to play with when she wants to “study” or when it’s time to “leave Soul the hell alone.” It’s part of why he’s so much fun, Blair thinks. And even though she wants to come down off her broomstick to at least touch noses and say hello to him properly--he always has this effect on her, more than her other not-cats do--she just twirls her finger. “Pum-pumpkin-pumpkin!”

“Hey, wait!” he calls, and the game is officially afoot. Or aflight or whatever.

***

Armington’s is an honest-to-goodness restaurant, not a bar or a club (so there, Maka), and you need a reservation to get in. Blair doesn’t have one. Kid takes a card out of his pocket, fingers flicking like a tail somewhere between annoyed and happy to see you. He moves in that shape rather a lot; Liz calls it “dick." (Blair's mental shape for that word is something else, but okay.)

“What can I do for you?” the host asks her, voice like an exposed belly. He comes into ChupaCabra’s all the time, requests her specifically. He's fun--not as much fun as Daddy Albarn, though.

Blair smiles, adjusts her top. “Table for two, please.”

“Anything for you, Miss Blair.”

Kid’s body shifts into just plain annoyed now. As they follow the server to their table, she surreptitiously sniffs Kid’s hair. Yep--annoyed. It's adorable. He isn’t like other boys--Soul and Black*Star with their gushing nosebleeds, Daddy Albarn with his flushed cheeks--and it’s frustrating sometimes not being able to mold him as she likes. Still, he’s fun, and more comfortable to be around than all her other not-cats, in his way, even the ones she lives with.

He notices things that they don’t, see.

If she wants to tell Soul I like you, she has to open her mouth--maybe take his face in her hands, if she’s got them--because, let’s face it, poor sonny-scythe can't look up high enough to see her I like you properly, even sitting face-to-face, like this. (Sonny-scythe is extra-super fun sometimes.) Resting her finger against her cheek, her chin on top of her thumb, she slow-blinks I like you.

I...like you? Kid slow-blinks back. A. Dore. A. Ble.

It used to make her feel naked when he’d respond to her when her human mask slipped, in ways running around without clothes never did. And maybe she still feels exposed, a little bit. Perhaps that’s why this is so much fun. Or maybe it’s because he’s so awkward, off time with an...exactness that cats would never have and she still has some secrets after all.

He knows a few, though. “She’ll have the lobster,” he tells their waiter before she can order, and she totally will, because it’s the most expensive thing on the menu. Then he orders a bottle of wine she can’t pronounce which is probably also the most expensive thing on the menu.

“Can I see some ID there, Junior?”

Out comes the little card in an annoyed-happy-to-see-you-dick flourish.

“Yes, of course, sir,” the guy mutters as he leaves. He really is silly. It’s not like alcohol makes Kid drunk or anything, he just--

Oh! That reminds her! “At work we got a ton of that dishwasher fluid you like the taste of, so I stole a whole bunch for you!”

“Blair, really.” Kid’s putting his napkin in his lap. “But, um, thank you."

“Nyaa.” She gets cravings for things humans think are weird, too. Like, she’ll be curled up on top of Maka’s head and suddenly she’ll want to eat her eyes. It’s no big deal--she wouldn’t actually do it--but Maka was still angry to hear about it. (Really! Being angry that a bakeneko just thinks about eating you is awfully sensitive. Maka-chan is so cute.)

The wine comes and he pours her a glass. “So, are Maka and Soul getting ready for their practical exam?”

“Uh-huh! They used Witch Hunter, like, four times--once against me!” They clink glasses then. “You guys should come over tomorrow. It would be fun to play with someone else who can use a cannon.”

“Liz and Patti could use the practice.” He swirls his wine.

Blair likes to sniff hers first, then dip her pinky finger in and taste it. She smiles without showing her teeth.“What would our humans do without us?”

“Die of their own stupidity, probably." Kid takes a drink. "Black*Star once tried to pull off a sneak attack against Professor Stein. In the middle of class. By running across the room and yelling ‘Sneak attack.’ He’s lucky I pitied him enough to knock him out.”

“Silly boy,” says Blair. Daddy Albarn talks about Professor Stein sometimes. Almost none of it’s good. “Did Liz ever get those shoes she wanted? Because I could totally get a five-finger discount.”

“So could Liz,” he says.

“Yeah, but can she get a boob discount?”

“You know she can’t.” He brushes her hair out of her face in a way that almost makes her forget that he isn’t a cat. Then he says: “Sometimes I wonder if you really are a witch.”

“Nope. Just a simple youkai,” she says. “You should meet my...friends. Or maybe not. Some of them are pretty” (crackle-storm-danger) “that thing....nyaa that” (crackle-storm-danger no dammit there are smaller words) “thing you don’t like.” She takes a bite of her lobster.

“Asymmetrical.” He takes a sip.

“That’s it!” Words are such tiny things; shaping her thoughts into them is so hard sometimes. More of human language should be like “pum-pumpkin-pumpkin,” which is always whatever size she needs.

“Well, I’m sure there’s a place in the universe for your disgusting friends. I hope it's Japan.”

(One of her, um, “friends” is the mirror in Black*Star and Tsubaki’s apartment. It used to live in Japan with the Nakatsukasas, though.) “There’s one now!” she says, and points.

“What?” And out pops the treat. Thanks for the meal, puzzle-box.

“Made ya look.” She’s warm and happy (Is it the wine? Nah. It’s not like she doesn’t get plenty of...offerings from men) and without thinking she leans forward, eyes half-closed, and headbutts him gently in the exact center of his forehead. She’s surprised to find she can’t purr.

“Oh, honestly.” There is alcohol (mint-steak-that-one-brand-of-dishwasher-fluid) on his breath, the stroke of Maka’s hand under his words.

Some time later, she’s covered her food with her napkin and it’s hard not to take his hand and put the skin of one of his knuckles between her teeth. Instead, she tries to think of words. “So this morning Soul smelled like sickness but Maka kissed him anyway. With her tongue.”

“Mm.” Suddenly she's conscious of the shift in his body, the faint charge in the air that made her think of these words in the first place. Crackle-storm-danger.

Their humans are especially stupid about crackle-storm-danger. It has to rip their guts out before they notice, and even then they make pointless words and add to it with their voices, loud and sharp and sweeping. Blair thinks with her body: puts her nose up close to his--hello!--takes his hands in each of hers and rubs up and down his forearms, over and over again. It’s no big deal.

When the air changes he says, “Um, thank you.”

Blair rolls her tongue--trrp?--and kisses the place where his thumbs meet. She uses her teeth, just a little.