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He can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from his chest. “A what?”
Scott sighs and scrubs his face with his hand. “A rabbit.”
Kip laughs harder. He can’t help it. It’s just so ridiculous that he’s having trouble picturing it. Scott Hunter, captain of the New York Admirals, six foot four inches of hard muscle, and probably the most traditionally masculine man Kip has ever dated, is a fucking bunny shifter.
He’s dated a couple of shifters in his past, but James had been a horse shifter and Luke had been a fox. Neither was particularly adorable, although Luke did like a good scritch behind his ears now and again.
“So, what? You’re like a cute and fuzzy little white bunny when you shift?” He's barely holding his mirth back at this point.
“Why is this so funny?” Scott asks. “It’s not like I’m the only rabbit shifter out there.”
“No, no. I’m sure you’re not. It’s just -” he breaks into another fit of giggles.
Scott narrows his eyes at him. “Just what?”
“A bunny? Really?”
“Not a bunny. A rabbit.”
Kip gives him a look of amused confusion. “That’s the same thing. Rabbit is the technical term. Bunny is colloquial.”
“A bunny is cute,” Scott says. “I’m not cute.”
“I beg to differ,” Kip says, suddenly sobering up.
Scott crosses his arms and sits back on the sofa, frowning. “‘M not cute,” he insists.
“Oh, babe,” Kip says. He maneuvers himself to straddle Scott’s lap. He peppers Scott’s face with kisses between each word. “You. Are. Adorable. Hot. Gorgeous.”
Scott allows the intrusion into his space and places his hands on Kip’s hips. “You won’t think so when I show you my shifted self.”
“Who hurt you?” It’s not a serious question by any means, but Scott apparently takes it as such.
“Would you like a list? I’m at the top of it.”
And that gives Kip pause. He knows Scott has been hard on himself over the years, but he hadn’t realized just how extensive that self-flagellation had been. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing about this. This is part of who you are, and no one should make fun of you for it.”
“Thank you.”
Kip leans down to give him a chaste kiss. “Do you have a schedule for shifting? Is there a certain time I should be aware of?”
“How much do you know about shifting?”
“Some? Honestly, not a whole lot.” James had never shifted around him; had always gone to a barn on the Island to safely shift, and Luke only shifted around him once or twice a month and never for very long. He always assumed that Luke hadn’t needed to shift more than that.
“Shifting takes a lot of energy. Like a lot of energy,” Scott says. “Even more so than playing hockey, but it’s something I have to do a few times a week.”
“Have I been keeping you from shifting? Does that do something to you if you don’t shift regularly?”
“A little,” Scott admits.
“I’m so sor -”
“It’s fine. It’s only been a week. But you needed to know.”
Kip nods. “Of course. Thank you. Whatever you need.”
Scott envelops him in a tight hug. “I didn’t want to freak you out,” he says into Kip’s chest.
“Over you shifting? Never happen.” Really, after the “too intense” talk the morning after the fundraiser, nothing could faze him. He kisses the top of Scott’s head then rests his cheek on it.
Scott flops Kip down on the sofa, resting on top of him. He scooches up a little in order to kiss Kip. Which he does. Soundly. “You haven’t seen me in my rabbit form yet.”
Kip good naturedly rolls his eyes. “Not for nothing, but I have dated a shifter or two in my day.”
“You have?”
“I have. A horse and a fox. I think I can handle a bunny.”
“Rabbit,” Scott corrects.
“Bunny. Rabbit. Same difference.”
Scott sighs. “It’s really not.”
“So, when do I get to meet Bunny Scott? Ooh! BS for short.” Kip chuckles at his own joke.
Scott narrows his eyes at Kip. “You are NOT calling me BS.”
“Fine. I won’t call you BS. You’ll still be Scott.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there anything I need to know about your rabbit form? Like, do you want pets or scritches behind your ears? Do you like being held?” Kip feels Scott physically tense on top of him and he worries he’s said the wrong thing. “Scott?”
“I - I don’t know,” he replies quietly. “I’ve been on my own since I was twelve. I’ve never had anyone to do that.”
And Kip’s heart just absolutely shatters for Scott. It didn’t even occur to him that Scott wouldn’t have had anyone to take care of him. Jesus, Kip’s an asshole. “Fuck, Scott. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize -”
“No, it’s okay.” He picks at a piece of lint on Kip’s t-shirt, obviously avoiding his eyes.
“Hey. Look at me.” It takes a moment, but Scott finally does. “We can find out together.” Scott looks physically pained by this statement. “Or not. Whatever you want.”
“Um…I actually think I’d like that.”
Kip lights up at that. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Scott pushes up to his knees and Kip sits back on the armrest. “You asked if I shift at any certain time. I usually shift at night before bed. That way it kind of wears me out and I can go right to sleep.”
That makes sense. “Do you want to do it at any other time? Or are you locked in to nights?”
“I don’t really know. I’ve kind of just….always done it that way.”
Kip nods, assuming it’s just one more thing the regimented hockey player has always done. “Okay. Well, if you ever want to shift sometime other than bedtime, you’ve got options.”
“Okay.” He pauses before adding, “Do you want to see it now?”
Kip holds out his hand and Scott takes it. “I would love to see your rabbit. But only if you’re comfortable.”
“No, I’m good. I’d like to think that after all the sex we’ve had, I’m at least somewhat comfortable with you.” Scott gives him a sideways grin.
Kip barks out a laugh. “Yeah, point taken. Is there anything I need to know?”
“Like what?”
“Like do you have a hutch hidden somewhere I don’t know about or should I feed you?”
This time it’s Scott’s turn to laugh. “No. No hutch. I usually just shift in the bedroom and hop around the apartment for half an hour or so.”
“You can tell time when you’re shifted?”
“I set an alarm.”
Kip smiles warmly at him. An idea hits him. “You want to lay back down over me and shift so you’ll be on my chest? I can give you pets and snuggle you.”
“I don’t think you’re getting the full picture here, Kip. I’m not a cute and cuddly bunny.”
“So you’ve said. How about you shift at that end of the sofa, then? I’ll stay over here and wait for you to come to me.”
“Yeah. I can do that.”
“Oh! Let me get some blueberries from the fridge. Maybe a banana? Something to tempt you with.” Kip is up and halfway to the kitchen before Scott can even say anything. “What about lettuce? A carrot feels too cliche.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Scott says just before he vanishes behind the sofa.
“You sure?” Kip says opening the fridge and inspecting its contents. “Ooh. What about an apple? I could cut it up for you.”
Kip turns back to the island, a container of blueberries and an apple in his hands. “What do you think?” Scott doesn’t answer. He looks up but doesn’t see him on the sofa. “Scott?”
He sets the fruit on the counter and takes a hesitant step around it, trailing his hand on the cool marble as he goes. “Scott?” he calls again, getting no answer. He slowly makes his way back to the sofa, almost afraid of what he’ll find there.
He stops a few paces away from the back of the sofa. “Scott?” Still no answer. He peers awkwardly over the back of the sofa thinking maybe Scott had laid down. Instead he finds Scott’s clothes with a lump under them. A big lump. When the lump begins to move, he lets out a “What the fuck?”
Kip takes another tentative step towards the sofa, his eyes glued on the moving lump. One more step and he’s right up against the back of it. He carefully reaches for the clothes and slowly picks up Scott’s shirt. What he finds underneath startles him.
“Jesus Christ,” he exclaims as he jumps back away from the sofa. The rabbit on the sofa is huge. Kip’s never seen a rabbit this big before - he didn’t realize it was possible for a rabbit to be that big. Or that blue.
He fully understands now why Scott referred to himself as a rabbit rather than a bunny. A bunny conjures up an image of that cute, small white rabbit like Kip had originally pictured. Scott is unquestionably a rabbit.
He slowly makes his way around the sofa, eyes trained on Scott. He sits down opposite him, back ramrod straight, his hands on his thighs. He’s honestly a little scared of Scott like this; he’s the size of a small dog for crying out loud.
Kip watches Scott as he sniffs the sofa, his ears nearly flat against his head. He takes a hand off his thigh and slowly moves it to the cushion so he doesn’t startle Scott. He wiggles his fingers a little to coax the rabbit - Scott - over.
Scott’s nose twitches and that helps loosen Kip up because that’s adorable. His whiskers aren’t as thick as Kip would have thought, but there are a bunch of them; certainly more than a cat has.
Kip lifts his hand off the sofa and extends it towards Scott who takes a tentative hop towards it. Kip extends it a little more and Scott stretches his head forward to give it a sniff. He apparently finds it agreeable and he takes another hop forward. Kip runs his fingers over Scott’s head.
“You’re so soft!” He’s never pet a bunny before, but he supposes he should have expected Scott to be soft. He pulls his hand back and Scott follows it all the way back to Kip’s lap. As he reaches it, his ears go up and Kip gasps at how tall they are. He holds himself back from rubbing one between his thumb and forefinger. Scott probably wouldn’t like that.
So he runs his hand down the length of Scott’s back and marvels at Scott’s size. He’s easily two feet long and probably weighs close to twenty pounds. His fur is that blue color you see in those thick furred cats that he can’t remember the name of, and he’s a little disappointed that Scott’s not some variation of red considering the hockey team he plays for. Kip changes from petting to skritching behind Scott’s ears with his nails and Scott really seems to like that. He may even be…purring? Do rabbits do that?
“Oh, you like that, do you?” Kip had almost expected a Thumper-like reaction with his back foot to express happiness, but instead, he’s treated to Scott hopping up on his lap halfway, his back feet still on the sofa. “Oh! Hi.”
Kip doesn’t know what makes a rabbit happy, so he tries skritching different areas on Scott’s bunny form to see what he likes and what he doesn’t. Head, yes. Chin, no. Butt, absolutely. Belly, unclear. Scott’s not shown him his belly yet, so Kip will wait on that one. He’s stroked Scott’s front paw with a single finger and he hadn’t pulled away, so sort of? They’ll have to talk when Scott comes back to human form.
They stay on the sofa for a good twenty minutes or so with Kip stroking and skritching Scott while Kip talks to him.
“You’re a good bunny. And yes, I said bunny, not rabbit.”
“More scritches incoming!”
“You’re the best looking shifter I’ve dated. Much cuter than that fox.”
“Honestly, this just makes me like you even more.”
“Does your team know you shift? Like, is that a bigger deal than being gay? What’s the protocol here? I’m not telling anyone either way, obviously, but I’m curious.”
“Do you get outside at all? Probably not. Oh! I could take you to my dad’s and let you hop around the back yard!” He pauses on that one. “Okay, that’s probably getting a little too far ahead in this relationship. But I think you’d like it.”
“What about a harness and leash? Could I walk you? The sidewalk may be too hard on your pads, though. I could get you a stroller and wheel you to Central Park and we can walk there. That’s an option.”
“You deserve sunshine, Scott.”
“I really want to feel your ears, but I don’t know if I’m allowed.”
“I probably should have asked more questions before you shifted.”
“Your color is beautiful, by the way.”
“Why are you so big?”
“It’s getting close to thirty minutes since you shifted. Do you want to shift back? Do I need to leave for that? Are you self-conscious about shifting?”
Kip lets his head fall to the back of the couch, but he still strokes Scott. “You probably can’t understand me, can you?” He closes his eyes and rolls his head side to side, chastising himself for being an idiot.
“Actually, I can,” Scott says, pushing up from Kip’s lap.
“Jesus, you startled me,” Kip says, his hand going to his heart.
Scott stands and quickly dons his pants and shirt, sitting back down on the far end of the sofa. “Sorry. Yeah. Yes, I can understand you when I’m shifted. I obviously just can’t respond.”
Well, that’s information Kip could’ve used before. Did he say anything bad? Maybe the part about meeting his dad, but that’s not too crazy, right? Shit. “Did I put my foot in my mouth?”
“You did not,” Scott assures him. "To answer I think all your questions, yes, the team knows I shift. I had to disclose before I signed, and they have a doctor on staff for shifters. My rabbit is a Flemish giant, that’s why I’m so big. Oh, and rabbits don’t have pads on their feet.”
“They don’t?”
“We don’t.”
“Huh. Interesting.”
“I also don’t really go outside,” Scott says sheepishly.
“Would you like to? Because I’m more than willing -”
“I don’t know. Maybe? I just…I’ve never had the option to go outside before.”
“You can pretend I didn’t say anything about my dad’s place. I really got ahead of myself.”
Scott smiles at him. “Kip. No. Like I said that first morning, I really, really like you.”
“I like you, too.”
“And I really want to see where this goes.” Scott circles his hand in the air indicating the two of them.
“I do, too.” They smile at each other for a moment and Kip can’t remember the last time he was this happy. Fuck. He feels tears pricking at his eyes. Goddammit. He’s got to distract himself or else he will be crying. “Do you want to lie down? You said shifting takes a lot of energy.”
Scott’s smile turns mischievous. “You gonna pet me while I drift off to sleep?”
“I might, rabbit. I might.”