Chapter Text
Spot was infuriated. Not with Racetrack. Not with the old woman. He was infuriated with himself.
He couldn’t sleep in peace anymore. He just felt…unsafe in his bed. It was ridiculous, nothing was going to kill him, but it was still enough to keep him up.
To even be able to approach sleep he had to pull his threadbare sheets over his head and all but burrow under his own pillow.
Why though? The stupid ears were gone and so was the damn tail. If he were really looking he’d swear that his front teeth were a touch bigger but he was human again. Human enough that he shouldn’t feel the need to make a damn nest.
It’s not like he couldn’t accommodate it. Hell, if he asked Hotshot the guy would give him the shirt off his back. The stress of trying to run things apparently really got to the poor guy and now he was completely dedicated to keeping Spot in top condition so he never has to do it again.
Spot had tried to warn him but it was a hard to communicate.
Hotshot’s laugh dragged him out of his daze. “Racetrack you dumb bastard!”
“He said he had to know.” A sigh could be heard, Jack Kelly? Why the hell was he in Brooklyn?
Spot hurried down the rickety steps to find a very put out looking Kelly standing in the middle of the Brooklyn lodging house with a stupid looking orange cat. Well, maybe it wasn’t stupid looking. That was probably just because Spot knew who it actually was.
Racetrack leaned up and smacked at Jack’s hat playfully. Really? At least Spot had tried to keep his dignity about it.
When Racetrack turned to look at him he felt a familiar jolt. The same kind he got when he woke up feeling exposed. Staring into those slit-like pupils had him afraid.
“Hey B-“ Jack stopped himself from using that stupid nickname. “Spot. Would you mind fixin’ him?”
Spot crossed his arms and did his best to shake off the ridiculous feeling. This wasn’t some random predator that might smell what’s left of rabbit on him and decide to attack. This was Antonio Racetrack Higgins, his moron. “Yes.”
“What?” Jack’s jaw dropped as Racetrack let out a horrified meow.
“If I fix it he won’t learn.” He resisted the urge to tap his foot in irritation.
“He’s gotta sell I…” Jack sighed. “He ain’t gonna learn either way.”
“He’ll learn.” Spot walked over and grabbed Racetrack by the scruff of the neck. “Two days, at least.”
Racetrack gave him these big sad eyes.
“At least.” He reiterated.
He smacked at Spot forcing Spot to drop him. The moment he hit the ground he took off.
“Good luck poutin’ when you look like that.” Spot knew it was petty to enjoy this.
“It’s probably for the best.” Jack reached into his pocket to pull out a mouse. It was a sandy brown color and much cuter than any of the mice in the city. “He spiked Crutchie and Finch as well. Finch flew the hell off.”
On closer inspection Spot could see that the little mouse had a messed up back leg. His heart ached for the guy. It had to be rough to be so small and around a cat no less.
“Why would he spike ‘em?” Usually Racetrack had at least some sense.
“Said something about it taking too long.” A faint dusting of color spread over Jack’s cheeks. “Not sure what he meant by that.”
Spot huffed and tapped his foot. “Yeah you are.”
“W-well I-“
“Wait here.” Spot turned and headed back to his room. When he came back he had a bundled up scarf in hand. “This should make him feel safer until ya grow a set.”
“Uh, thanks.” Jack took it and seemed a bit surprised when his friend burrowed into it right away.
“Didn’t do it for you but sure.”
Jack grinned and preemptively took a step back. “Ah, so you got a soft spot?”
“I’m gonna tear your throat out with my teeth.” He deadpanned. The only reason he didn’t was the squeak of protest from Crutchie.
“On that note, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome. Good luck Racetrack!” Jack quickly backed out of the lodging house and tipped his hat before taking off.
The door was barely shut before Hotshot broke out into snickering. “You do have to admit that was-“
“Shut up.” Spot interrupted.
Hotshot wasn’t put off in the slightest. “Though I guess it’s us that got the soft spot. Since you-“
“I know where you sleep.” He all but growled.
He held his hands up in surrender and tried not to grin.
“So what are we gonna do with Racer?” Kenny asked.
“Same thing you did with me.” Spot smiled. “Your best. He needs to know that magic ain’t a game.”
There was an audible gasp from the bunkroom. “A kitty!”
Spot’s grin became something downright wicked as a girl of at most eight came running into the room holding Racetrack close to her chest and letting his legs dangle. He gently tried to push himself away but to no avail.
“I found a kitty! Are we keepin’ him?” The girl sounded ecstatic.
“Of course Princess.” As he spoke Racetrack’s eyes widened in pure horror and it was enough that Spot couldn’t tell if he wanted to burst out laughing or save him right then and there. “But he ain’t a kitty. That’s Racetrack.”
The girl hugged him a little tighter. “But what about his visits? The other Manhattan boys are gross.”
Spot had to bite his lip to keep from giggling at the odd mix of insult and pride that seemed to be playing on Racetrack’s face. “They is gross. But Race will be Race again soon. You just gotta get in your kitty time now. I’m sure Racetrack will be happy to play.”
“Okay!” She turned and ran towards the others.
As she did Racetrack managed to lean over her shoulder and send Spot a cold glare.
Spot just shrugged in return.
He set about his day, it was Sunday so while the other kids were out enjoying their time off Spot stayed behind to try and make sure everything was a bare minimum of decent. Washing sheets and checking for lice, making sure there wasn’t any food left out to attract rats, and trying to figure out what to do with clothes that were too tattered to wear without throwing them out. You know, things every kid is excited to do on their one day off. It wasn’t all-bad though, every few minutes he heard delighted giggles around the lodging house. It was occasionally followed with a meow of some kind.
It was nearly dinner by the time he even saw Racetrack again.
Kenny poked his head in while he was trying to figure out what to make. “Spot, have you seen Racer? Princess lost sight of him after the hat incident.”
“Hat incident?” He narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out what Kenny was talking about.
“The little ones decided to dress him up, they got about as far as a hat before he lost it and took off.”
“I ain’t seen him. He’ll show back up once he smells food.” One thing that probably wouldn’t change no matter his form.
“Alright,” He then added. “What are we havin’?”
“I don’t know!” Spot waved him away. “Go make yourself useful somewhere.”
“Ah, pasta then.” Kenny nodded and turned to leave.
Not long after Kenny left Spot felt something sharp sink into the back of his leg. His first instinct was to cry out and try to get the thing off him but no sound would come. He couldn’t even move. All he could do was feel his heart beating out of his chest and hope that whatever this thing was it was quick about it.
When it climbed to his shoulder he somehow expected a bite to the neck, not a confused trilling meow.
“T-Tony!” He gasped out as he realized just what had ‘attacked’ him.
Fucking hell.
He pried him off his shoulder and held him out at arms length as he caught his breath. To his credit Racetrack looked downright worried.
“I can’t…ya can’t.” He took a deep breath. “I ain’t a hundred percent, okay?”
Admitting it felt heavy, dangerous even. Acknowledging weakness wasn’t something he allowed himself, it made it something real. Yet it was different with Racetrack, wasn’t it? He trusted Racetrack with everything, even his name.
His name. Spot blushed when it hit him that he’d called Racetrack ‘Tony’. He’d thought about trying it but it was an intimacy that went way beyond anything they could get up to in the bedroom. Or at least that’s what it felt like.
Racetrack purred loudly.
“Yeah, you too asshole.” He scratched Race behind the ear. “Still not changing you back yet.”
The purring halted and paw pads connected with his face. Spot had no choice but to feign insult.
“Did you just smack me? You do want to be turned back don’t you?” It was hard to keep a straight face, especially when Racetrack meowed in response.
“Well, you have done a good job keeping Princess out of trouble.” He pretended to be on the fence. “And I don’t exactly know what to make for dinner.”
He quickly pressed his lips to Racetrack’s little muzzle while the cat still seemed to trying to figure out what was going on.
The transformation crept up on them as before. Soon he could feel Racetrack’s lips against his and a hand on his cheek. Spot grinned when he felt a tail curl around his legs, at least he wasn’t the only one.
“You didn’t think I’d actually leave you stuck did you?” He grinned.
Racetrack pulled back just enough to see him. “You’re a jackass.” His orange tabby cat ears twitched.
“You’re the one using magic like a toy.”
“Hmm,” The sound had an almost purr-like quality. “True. So, what did you mean by ‘not a hundred percent’?”
Spot was tempted to lie, then again Racetrack would absolutely see through it at this point. “There’s still some stuff… Rabbit stuff.” He wanted to drop dead. “Something with claws ‘n stuff jumped me and my brain shut down.”
“Shit, sorry.” His ears flattened as he apologized.
“Ain’t your fault.” He laughed bitterly. “You should hear what I come up with when I’m tryin’ to sleep and it’s not enough like a damn nest.”
“Maybe you just need a lookout.” Racetrack moved behind him and wrapped his arms around Spot’s waist.
That might actually help. “You offerin?”
“Well you did say two days.” Race stared over his shoulder as the water slowly came to a boil.
“At least.” Spot added.
“At least.” Racetrack started to kiss at his neck. When his hands crept lower Spot smacked them with the closest wooden spoon. “Fucker!” He hissed out.
“I gotta feed these idiots or they won’t eat.” He refused to be distracted just yet.
“Maybe I’m hungry too.” Racetrack nipped at his ear.
“Don’t make me end you.” Spot held the spoon out as a weapon.
“Oh? Do your worst.” His tone was overly flirtatious, obvious he was thinking of a different connotation to his threat.
Spot grinned. “…Princess! I found the kitty!”
Racetrack groaned and hid his face in Spot’s shoulder. “Monster.”
“You asked for it.” Spot bit his lip to keep from laughing when a blur in pigtails came running in and attached herself to Racetrack’s leg.
“Racetrack you’se got a tail!” She pointed out with glee.
“And he’s goin’ to take that tail out into the living room while I make dinner.” He pushed the two towards the door. “Have fun.”
The girl squealed in excitement when Racetrack lifted her up onto his shoulders. “Sir yes sir!” He saluted before hurrying off.
They ended up having pasta for the third time that week but it was still great.
Even better was the first night of decent sleep Spot had had in days.