Chapter Text
“You know what’s the weirdest thing about all this?” he asked, raising his head from the computer screen. He eyed Dean, nipping at the remains of Sam’s salad. “That you’re not even a grown cat. You’re a kitten. You,” he chucked at the glare. “It’s just all too sweet,” this time his brother ignored him. He swished his tail and jumped down from the table ungracefully, almost landing face first on the floor, making Sam want to pick him up and cuddle. He could still feel the warm, silky fur against his skin. Then Dean padded up to his leg and proceeded to wiggle inside his pants. Before he could do anything about it, tiny, but surprisingly sharp teeth were heavily assaulting the skin of his ankle. “Ow, Dean!”
At that a small brown furball torpedoed across the room and disappeared under the bed.
“You suck,” Sam whined and massaged his poor leg.
Dean lay on the covers splayed on his back; his incredibly soft–looking belly right there on display, lighter in color than the rest of him. Sam had to be strong. Strong, goddamit! It was one thing to play with his paws or stroke his ears. After all, it was Dean, his brother, in there. And fondling his belly would really be a straight leap over to perversity. But then Dean stretched leisurely, yawned, blinked and dozed of again and all the rational thought fled from Sam’s head. Kneeling next to the bed, he tangled his finger in the velvety hair on his brother’s stomach. He could feel the skin underneath, the calm breaths, the life in there. And Dean was so delicate right now, so vulnerable. And just do damn cute. And then he purred, his paws shooting in Sam’s direction. Definitely without murderous intentions. Sam was lost. He lowered his head, so the pads of his brother’s limbs could pat him on the face. And then they caught in his dangling hair. And Dean was still purring, sending slight vibrations up Sam’s fingers. His belly was almost hot. Then he sneezed, startling Sam into jumping back. His leg kicked against the bed, sending it into a rocking motion and making his brother fully wake up. Alert green eyes glanced at him, then looked around processing the situation. Finally Dean seemed to be satisfied. Sam couldn’t move, he just sat where he fell, resting on his elbows, and watched as his brother crept closer to the edge and jumped on his chest. Then he got closer to his face and propped up against his chin with two front paws. Sam had to cross his eyes to be able to look him in the face. Dean licked him on the nose and jumped down, disappearing into the bathroom.
“Huh,” Sam said and stayed on the floor.
He didn’t know what exactly did he expect. Maybe that after today Dean would at least sleep in one bed with him? But that was stupid, come on, seriously. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when his brother clawed up his own bed and curled up on the pillow in the same manner as the night before. It took him a while before sleep finally overtook him after that.
His mind was still heavily sleep fogged the next morning. And really, since Dean turned into a cat, their wonderfully free days of vacation were even more tiring than usual, what with all the early wake up calls. This time there was a lot of pathetic meowing in his ear. He decided to ignore it; there was nothing urgent to do today. Then there was hair tugging. At that he only waved his hand in the general direction of the harassment. Then there was scratching on his arm. He growled and shook his brother off. Maybe a little too brutally, but for Christ’s sake, it was still dark outside!
When he thought it was finally over, he felt movement under the covers and suddenly there was a warm weight sitting on his dick, of all places. His dick! Instantly awake, he ripped the covers off himself and looked down, where Dean was balancing on his pajama covered cock and staring at him menacingly.
“What– ”
He didn’t finish, because his brother’s intent made itself crystal clear when Dean raised one paw and extended his claws warningly. And even if they were small, they were also motherfucking sharp and even the thought of them anywhere near his dick made him freeze in terror.
“I’m up!” he yelled. “I’m up! Geroff, you bitch!”
Dean blinked lazily with his paw still up. At Sam’s terrified face he finally decided to have mercy and strut away, shaking his butt, apparently very proud of himself. Sam looked after him, shell–shocked. Then it turned out Dean needed him awake to open the bathroom door. And okay, maybe Sam indeed did prefer to be woken up early than undoubtedly find cat excrements in his shoes. He was fairly certain such actions weren’t above his brother, the vengeful idiot.
Whatever. Besides, he would much rather be pissed at Dean than think about how his cock expressed more interest in his brother’s proceedings than healthy.
Okay, just today, tomorrow and Bobby would be here. And then they could perform the ritual, destroy the artifact and Dean would be back to his usual self. And hopefully, they would never ever talk about the fact Sam was almost hooked on touching him whenever possible. Like probably ninety nine percent of the society, he also wasn’t immune to a little kitten’s charm. Just the way it was.
That’s why he was on the computer again, trying to distract himself. Otherwise he would just end up molesting his brother again. It took him a while to realize that the slight irregular tapping on the side of his boot was actually Dean hunting his laces. He felt his throat slam shut with the cute slash hilarious overload. His brother was so consumed by his task he didn’t even notice Sam staring at him and stuffing his mouth with his fist in hopes of not making a sound. Dean finally got his claws in the material, tugging and hissing at it like it personally offended him. Then he started chewing, still not letting them out of his paws. He looked up, alerted by a snort, and saw Sam staring at him with tears in his eyes. He blinked, coughed and hid under the chair, ashamed. Not able to resist a second longer, Sam exploded with laughter. The back of his shin got punished for that.
“Dean, it’s okay,” he chuckled. “But you know, you could’ve just asked. I’d be more that happy to wave a string around for you.”
Not able to swear at him properly, Dean crawled from under the chair and stared at him murderously, ears folded against his head.
“Dude, you’re killing me,” Sam reached down to pat him on the little back. His brother shun away from the touch. He sighed. “Sorry.”
After Dean disappeared under the bed again, he went back to his research. But when he didn’t come out for the next hour, he got worried. He snapped the screen shut and went looking for him. The floor was disgustingly dirty and suspiciously sticky as he put his hand on it to peek under the bed. Not noticing the tiny kitten–shaped figure, he swore and yanked his duffle to check behind it. Too engrossed in his task, he barely noticed it hit the opposite wall. Still no Dean. And then he heard quiet mewling. He jerked his head in its direction. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it came from the inside of the bag he just threw against the wall. Crap.
Kneeling next to it, he noticed the zipper wasn’t pulled closed all the way. With his heart hammering mile a minute, he tugged it open. One of his t–shirts was shaking. As gently as possible, he unwrapped what turned out to be his missing brother.
“Oh, my God,” he gasped. “Dean, hell. Are you alright?”
“Murr,” his brother replied faintly, blinking dazedly. Nothing appeared to be broken, so Sam slid his hand under Dean’s body and drew him out of the duffel. Bringing him to his eye level, he examined him more closely, prodding with a finger delicately. That is, until his brother sneezed him in the eye. And again. Then looked at him with indignation and batted his finger away. Sam felt the little body grow taut and a second later Dean was situated on his head. When did that happen? Tiny claws held on to his hair and he did his best to remain motionless. He had no idea what his brother wanted.
“Motherfu–!” well, apparently he served as a trampoline now. Almost drawing blood, Dean pushed against his head and landed on the bed. It hurt! “You’re a monster!”
His brother meowed with satisfaction. Sam rolled his eyes and turned around, looking at his disemboweled duffel – evidently Dean’s latest favorite hangout place. He had no idea why that discovery made him feel all gooey inside.
“Either you eat this or you’re not eating at all,” Sam warned. He’s had enough of this diva behavior. Dean was scrunching up his nose distastefully at the can on the table. “Seriously, I know it looks like puke, but apparently it’s good for you. Your stomach, whatever,” he pressed. His brother looked at him pitifully, silently begging. He sighed. This gaze was making him squirm every time. He wanted to give the whole world to that gaze. And then some. But not this time. “Please, just eat it. Think of all the cheeseburgers you can get when you’re back to normal.”
That seemed to work a little, as Dean eyed the can thoughtfully, even if a bit warily, for the first time. Sam wouldn’t want to eat it either, but the girl at the store said it was full of nutrients kittens needed to grow properly. Growing was not the issue in this case, but it would at least fill Dean’s stomach. He couldn’t go three days only on milk after all, right?
First Dean poked the pulp with a paw. Then he nosed at it, distrustful. Only then did he finally lick it. Sam took it as a good sign his brother didn’t instantly spring aside. He let out a relieved breath when Dean started scooping the food. He wouldn’t die of starvation. That was a definite win.
The pull of disappointment wasn’t that strong today as it was yesterday when Dean buried himself in the other bed. Besides, Sam was exhausted. He was running around town in search of a pet shop for hours while his brother napped peacefully in his pocket. And when Dean went nearly ballistic at the sight of all the goldfish in the store, he had to hold the tiny wrenching body tightly, afraid of snapping it in half. Sleep overtook him almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The rest was short lived, though, and when he woke up not long after, he wanted to howl. One night, that’s all he was asking for. He turned in Dean’s direction, but the fight left his body immediately when he spotted something wrong. Turning on the lamp, he rolled closer to the gap between the beds and eyed his brother. The little form was twitching, the tail swinging furiously, ears waggling. Then he heard a keen. It was probably what woke him up in the first place. He couldn’t bear hearing it again. It lacerated his heart.
Not waiting any longer, not thinking about it, he reached out and scooped Dean in his hand, once again marveling at how small he was. And how something that little could emanate so much warmth.
Almost as soon as his brother was against him, the trembling subsided. The tail was now only lazily sweeping through the air and the ears lay close to the head. Sam ran his fingers over them, smiling fondly at the purr. Carefully, he turned the lights off again and settled in the covers. Then he put Dean down on his chest, but couldn’t stop himself from lightly stroking the fur. Quiet purring and the feeling of warm silkiness under his fingers lulled him back to sleep.
Next time he woke up, the sun was high in the sky and he felt rested like never before. He lay there, looking up on the ceiling, when his brain finally caught up to the sound of a soft scuffle in the room. Sitting up, he cased the room and noticed a tiny brown tornado tormenting something on the floor. Watching the fight with an invisible opponent, he noticed he wasn’t as imaginary as he originally thought. There on the moldy carpet, Dean was hunting a huge fat spider. Sam cringed on instinct. The thing was almost as big as his brother, all black, which made it hard to be noticed at first against the current background. Few seconds later, couple of fast strikes from Dean’s side and the disgusting thing curled its legs up and froze. Sam didn’t know if he should feel proud or nauseous. He cried out in horror when he saw Dean readying himself to eat the damn thing. That startled his brother enough to leave his prey.
“I get it you’re hungry,” Sam guessed, his face still scrunched up involuntarily. Dean bounced happily to the foot of the bed, vanishing from sight for a while, then he was there again, balancing on the covers. He ran up Sam’s leg to prop himself against his stomach and look up with wide eyes. Sam bit his lip and picked his brother up, his windpipe clogged with mawkish affection. Dean rubbed his head against his hand ingratiatingly. The hand that feeds, so to say.
“This stuff is terrible,” he concluded, setting Dean on the table and opening a new can. Strong smell of cat food hit his nostrils. His brother nodded and dug in hungrily. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Sam asked. Dean only looked at him and somehow managed to express sarcasm and worry at the same time. While still being a cat. Quite a challenge. And of course Dean would notice he didn’t get much sleep lately. It was Dean.
Leaving his brother to devour the rest of the food, he stepped in the bathroom. He almost tripped over the booster he set up for Dean in the bathtub, so he could get out after he was finished with… stuff. After taking it out, he rinsed the drain, getting rid of anything that could be his brother’s residue of any kind. Just in case.
Right when he was about to brush his teeth, he heard knocking. At the outside entrance. With a towel still around his waist, he stalked to the door and spotted Dean glued to the floor with his butt up in the air, tip of his tail doing circles when its owner glared holes in the wall. Correction, another spider. On the wall. Sam snapped his fingers, catching his brother’s attention. He motioned for him to get out of sight. With one last longing look at the spider, Dean waggled under the bed. Sam opened the door.
“Where is he?”
“Bobby?”
“You gonna let me in or what?”
He stepped aside and let the older hunter in.
“You’re early.”
“No kiddin’,” grumbled Bobby, looking around the room, searching. “The case took shorter than expected. I’m here. Where’s this idjit?”
Sam closed the door.
“Dean?”
Little head with flattened ears peeked out from underneath the bed. Bobby looked at it. It looked back. Bobby still looked, with an unreadable expression. Finally he shook his head.
“He’s damn adorable,” he stated begrudgingly. Dean hissed. Bobby smiled. Sam hasn’t seen him smile like that in a really long time. “You got pictures?”
“That’s a brilliant idea, actually,” Sam broke out in a grin and swiped his cell off the drawer. Before he managed to snap a shot, though, his brother already took a leap back under the bed. “Okay, no photos,” he said finally. After a while, Dean crept out of his hiding place doubtfully, ears still down. There was a flash and Sam’s cell memory had one more thing to hold. His brother sat on his feet and meowed unhappily.
“Be glad I didn’t perpetuate you when you were chasing my shoelaces,” Sam stated.
“Meow,” answered Dean ardently.
“I’m not deleting it,” he fought his case. “You know what? I think I’m even gonna make a wallpaper out of it.”
Dean yowled.
“Okay, you two,” Bobby cut in. “You wanna get this over with so we can actually do the job?”
Sam nodded. His brother clawed at his bare foot.
“Damnit, Dean!”
Except then his brother ran up to Bobby, the traitor, and jumped on his boot to rub against his ankle and it was obvious whose side their friend would be taking. Sam watched as a mauldin smile stretched Bobby’s lips and sighed.
“I’m gonna put on some clothes,” he announced. “Then we can go.”
Right before he closed the door to the bathroom, he heard Dean purr and he felt an insane rush of jealousy. He snorted at himself and proceeded to get dressed in some heavy layers.
“I’m gonna be tasting this crap for weeks, you dick,” Dean mumbled over a mouthful of toothpaste three days later. Fortunately by now Sam was as skilled at deciphering the gurgle language as he was at English.
“You’d rather be left to starvation?”
“Yes!”
God, sometimes he really missed the annoying big–eyed furball. At least it was mute. And fluffy. He had hard proof of that on his phone. That made for good retribution.