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It happens without Minho realizing it. Well, that's not true. The whole reason he and Changbin are here, sprawled on the couch and watching a movie, is that Minho wanted this to happen.
He's not wearing his ears, or his tail. That's more of a Yongbok thing, and a him-and-Yongbok thing. He knows Changbin wouldn't care either way, but Minho isn't sure how well he'll handle Changbin's sweet attention. Sometimes, the thought of it is enough to send Minho into a spiral. That's Minho, though, not kitty-Minho.
He doesn't need the ears to slip into it, either. He just needs Changbin's steady, strong hand stroking through his hair and down his back and the flimsy strip of patent leather around his neck.
"No bell?" Changbin had said as he put it on Minho, sticking a finger between the leather and his skin to test the tightness. The constriction made Minho's dick jump.
"Planning on losing me?" Minho asked.
Changbin smiled. "No, but I'm not sure I trust you not to run off."
Minho swatted at him and Changbin laughed, and then they settled down. Changbin chose the film and Minho lay himself over Changbin's lap. The fabric of his sweatpants is soft, feels good under his cheek and beneath his fingers. He touches while watching the film, relaxing.
He doesn't realize he's been kneading at Changbin's thigh until Changbin hisses and jerks.
The mrrp comes out of him before he can stop it. His mind has gone hazy, syrupy slow. He means to ask if Changbin is okay, but words — speaking— that feels far away.
"All good, aegiyah," Changbin says softly, the timbre of his voice shivering down Minho's spine. "Tender. Leg day yesterday."
Minho makes another little noise. He moves his hands — paws? — higher, digs his claws in a little deeper. Changbin hisses again but doesn't stop him. Minho works, moves higher with his kneading until he hits the softness of Changbin's belly. Changbin grunts but doesn't say anything, just plays with the hair at the nape of Minho's neck. Patient.
Little noises come out of him as he kneads, mrrps and trills that he'd be embarrassed by if it were anyone but Changbin under him. He's not sure what it is about Changbin specifically that makes it so. Chan is just as patient and kind, but there's something about his expectations, the way he's Minho's only hyung, that means it's hard to be vulnerable with him. He needs a buffer with Chan. He needs Yongbok. Changbin, though, is all his.
As it is, he lets himself sink deeper with each press of his paws into Changin's belly.
Changbin adjusts, knocking Minho from his trance, and Minho grunts his protest.
"Sorry, kitty," Changbin says softly. "I'm sorry. Let me lay down."
Pulling back to sit at the opposite end of the couch, Minho watches Changbin adjust, slide down onto his back and rest his head against a pillow. He can see the faint bulge in Changbin's sweatpants and wonders idly if he ought to knead there, too.
"C'mere," Changbin calls, patting his stomach invitingly. Minho has half a mind to ignore him, just to be petty, but then Changbin wouldn't be touching him.
A slow crawl up Changbin's body, pausing to squeeze at his thighs, his soft belly, his pecs. The give of his body is intoxicating, and Minho wishes he could purr, if only so Changbin could know how content he is. Maybe he knows anyway.
"Good kitty," he says, cupping Minho's head. Minho shivers, a tiny whimper makes its way out of him.
"You need more, baby?" Changbin's hand slips down Minho's flank, pauses at his hip. Minho becomes aware, suddenly, of the ache in his cock, and how much he'd like to be touched there.
He tries to say yes, but all that comes out is a pathetic noise. He nods, fingers scrabbling at Changbin's waistband, too. Changbin grunts when Minho's fingers find his cock, and Minho mirrors the sound when Changbin does the same. It's dry, but neither of them complain.
Minho bends over, knocking his head against Changbin's, begging. Changbin catches his mouth with his, kissing him, and Minho melts against him. His mouth is as soft as the rest of him, and he moans into it, nipping at Changbin's lips. He feels Changbin shiver under him and lets go of his cock, humping into Changbin's hand.
"That's it, baby, I've got you," he says, and Minho kisses him again to shut him up.
They come like that, writhing on the couch, Minho biting at Changbin's chin as he moans and spills all over their laps. Minho comes right after, face pressed to Changbin's neck, his whole body one big shudder.
He floats, for a little bit. He has some awareness of Changbin wiping them up with tissues or a towel or something. He comes out of it fully when Changbin presses a kiss the the top of his head and says, "Sweet kitty."
"Sweet, huh?" Minho props himself up, pinches Changbin's nipple. "Guess I'll have to use my claws next time."
Changbin shivers, grins. "I guess so," he says.