Work Text:
“Ricky, knock it off.”
The radgoll’s tail swishes in response. Gyuvin uses his free hand to swipe it away from his spellbook so he could read the next step. It’s in an old language that Gyuvin still isn’t fluent in and he needs complete concentration.
Ricky’s tail swishes over the book again.
The witch chooses to ignore it, muttering aloud each word as he transcribes the spell. It is one he’s done a few times, but the spell refuses to stick in his memory long enough for him to commit a portion of his magic too. Ricky says it would be useless anyways because he doesn’t use it enough.
Ricky turns around to face Gyuvin, looking down at the spellbook and turning his head to one side. “Yeah, it’s that one. Stop bugging me.”
The feline paws at the page anyways, chirping a little when Gyuvin swats at him. It goes on once, twice, four times before Gyuvin gets fed up.
He can normally handle a lot from his Familiar. Teasing, playfullness, glints of mischief when it’s a particularly difficult potion. Batting at him with his paws, meowing to annoy him. Even in human form Ricky can tease him a lot and Gyuvin can handle it.
But Gyuvin’s already running two days behind on this commission and he hasn’t slept in at least a day and the language is a pain in his ass—”Ricky!” Gyuvin practically yells.
The ragdoll’s tail puffs up as he jumps out of his skin. Gyuvin doesn’t raise his voice often, and never at Ricky. “Please. I’m trying to finish this so that I don’t lose one our best clients.”
Ricky mrrows, watching him for a minute. He’s studying Gyuvin, gauging his annoyance. Eventually the cat huffs and hops off the counter. He disappears into another part of the shop.
Gyuvin feels bad immediately. His heart drops into his stomach. Tear prick at his eyes. He wants to apologize, but he’ll have make it up to Ricky later. He needs to focus on finishing this.
Ricky is in his human form when Gyuvin is finally done. His ears flicker at the sound of Gyuvin walking into the space, looking over his shoulder with a neutral expression. Which means Gyuvin is in trouble.
“I’m sorry,” Gyuvin says immediately.
Ricky sighs, expression unchanging. “Ricky…”
“You yelled at me.”
Gyuvin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You were in my way,” Gyuvin argues.
“You never yell at me.”
For as much as Gyuvin loves his Familiar, he can feel just as much irritation. “I’m sorry.”
Ricky turns his head away from Gyuvin. “I don’t know why I’m feeling so… needy.”
Gyuvin sighs. He sits next to Ricky and tugs the feline closer. Ricky melts into the embrace. That’s something that Gyuvin had been warned about all those years ago. Before choosing Ricky.
Ragdolls are needy types. They’ll go between witches because no one can handle it.
Gyuvin can handle it. “Let’s close shop for a day then. Just you and me.”
Ricky purrs.
“Can you help me with my tail?” Ricky asks.
Gyuvin looks up from his reading, glancing down at Ricky’s tail. “Wouldn’t it be easier for a full groom while you’re in your other form?”
The feline scoffs. “You are not getting anywhere near me with a brush,” Ricky says. “Just telp me with my tail please.”
He doesn’t get offered a chance to help often. Ricky is super particular with his tail, he even refuses to let children pet it. The rich blueish-grey color of the fur shimmers in the sunlight as it sways involuntarily. “Okay.”
Gyuvin sets his book down, taking the brush from Ricky’s hand and gently picking up the tip of his tail. Ricky settles in quickly, monitoring Gyuvin’s movements. Just a few strokes in the feline is purring, nails picking into his pant fabric. “It’s not too bad,” Gyuvin mumbles.
Really it’s not. Only a handful of fur has gathered as Gyuvin makes his way up each vertebrae. The ragdoll’s purring gets louder, needier and it’s getting harder for Gyuvin to ignore it.
The base of Ricky’s tail is his most sensitive. He looks at his partner for consent. “You can,” Ricky purrs.
It comes out mostly garbled, but the ragdoll nods and moves Gyuvin’s hand further up. Gyuvin presses his fingers into it, brushing the extra fur away. Ricky’s neediness seeps into Gyuvin’s skin.
Gyuvin pauses brushing to stare at Ricky, watching his eyes turn dark. “I need it, too,” Gyuvin whispers.
Ricky initiates the kiss. His purring vibrates through Gyuvin’s skin as he kisses back. He presses his thumb against the corner of the feline’s mouth. Ricky opens up, spit pooling on his tongue from purring.
Gyuvin laps it up, rubbing his tongue against the feline’s, groaning at the slightly sandpapery texture. Ricky pulls away first, spit bridging between their lips. “Close the shop?”
Gyuvin doesn’t hesitate.
“You won’t send me away, right?” Ricky asks.
Gyuvin grabs Ricky by his waist before he can run off after asking such a stupid question. “No, stay. Talk to me.”
Ricky looks away, pretending to hate being held so tightly. “I’ve been so needy all week and I don’t know what’s wrong with me and you hear what the elders all say about ragdolls and—”
Gyuvin kisses his cheek, breathing in his skin. “And, stop it. I’m not sending you away. I’m just as needy as you and I’d die without you.”
Ricky rolls his eyes. Gyuvin knows the challenges of bonding with a ragdoll. “You can be annoying,” Gyuvin admits.
Ricky pinches his side. “But—But. I like it.”
“Stop flirting with your Familiar.”
“Oh, I think I’ve done more than that.”
Ricky is having absolutely none of it, shoving Gyuvin away forcefully.
Ricky’s tail swishes against Gyuvin’s spellbook.
Gyuvin runs his hand along Ricky’s back, smiling softly. “Come sit in my lap instead, kitten.”
Ricky hops into his lap, curling himself into a ball. He purrs. “My precious kitten.”