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candied-boys · 9 months

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Catboy Charles x F! Reader - Part 5

Tags: domestic fluff, showering together because bbg doesn't know how

Part 4

The way Charles perches in his seat at the table is adorable. You mentally applaud yourself for not having barstools, but instead for investing in proper dining chairs. Knees up and feet on the cushion, he sits just like he always has as a cat. He even keeps his hands in front on the edge of the chair. Even his pretty tail sways through the gaps in the back.

His unfamiliarity with using his hands only adds to his charm. After a few demonstrations, he figures out how to hold the fork, but every time he thinks you're not looking his pink tongue sticks out in concentration as he tries to stab things onto the utensil.

He refuses to eat his greens. He won't even try them, pouting and saying cats don't eat grass. Charles does drink three glasses of milk, eat all his sausages, and pick out the soft centre of his bread; but you also hear him snacking on his kibble when you leave the room. You'll have to put that stuff away, or at least check if it's safe for humans to eat.

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With lunch out of the way, you flop onto the sofa to try and figure out what to do about all this. Naturally, Charles takes his seat beside you and begins doing what he does at least half the day normally - grooming. It's such an unremarkable part of your life that you hardly register it anymore. That is until you're wrenched out of your pondering by much grunting and fussing.

“Can't… nnnn… reach!” Charles huffs as he tries to lick his tail.

As soon as you meet his gaze you can see how distressed he is from the helpless way he looks at you with those big blue eyes. Petting him consolingly you tell him, “I think you'll have to learn to groom the way humans do, Minou.”

He tilts his head in obvious confusion. Come to think of it, you've never let him in the washroom when you're showering. You didn't bother trying to give him a bath as a cat either because you know it's not necessary.

Hauling him up he trails obediently behind, standing next to you as you explain that you use the shower to get clean. From outside the booth, you turn on the faucet. The moment the water sprays the tile, he backs up against the bathroom wall.

“No rain,” he mewls in fear.

“It's not rain, Minou. It's a shower. It's nice. I promise!”

“I hate the rain! It's cold and it makes me feel sick and I get so dirty after it rains it ruins my coat and makes a mess of my tail!” he whimpers and clutches said fluffy accessory.

“This is warm and you'll feel great after! I'm sure you'll like it if you try,” you coo and scratch his ears again to calm him down.

“There's no such thing as warm rain…”

It seems the only way you can convince him it won't be that bad is by proving it to him.

“Here, give me your hand. We'll touch the water together and see if it's cold, okay?”

He nods warily and follows your lead but flinches at the sensation of the water hitting his palm.

“Don't like it…” he murmurs and quickly withdraws.

“I promise it's really nice when you're inside… I know you're scared, but if you can't groom like usual you won't be clean. I know you like to stay immaculate and this will help.”

Shaking his pretty mop of lavender hair back and forth he refuses again. “I don't want to be wet.”

“I'll dry your hair after for you?” you offer.

He looks at you with a suspicion like that isn't actually possible.

“I'll even wash your hair for you if you want?”

This is the only thing you've said that softens his frightened expression.

“You'll groom me?”

“Sure. If that'll make you feel better and help you get used to it.”

He agrees, but clings to your hand when you step into the shower booth together. You stand under the showerhead, blocking most of the water from hitting him until he adjusts. His pretty blue orbs flit to every corner of the little space. The more he takes in the weaker his grip becomes.

“Now what?” he eventually asks when he's satisfied his curiosity.

You show him your usual routine, and one step at a time do the same for him. You start slow, lathering up your hands and then giving him a chance to touch the bubbles. Rubbing the soap into his hands, in between his fingers, and up his wrist until he seems less wary. Gradually, you convince him to step out of the corner and into the spray with you so that you can help him suds up.

After washing his chest, you turn him around to wash his shoulders without much thought, but Charles hates the way his tail ends up soaked and heavy. Pouting and pleading with his moonstone eyes for you to fix it, you switch to shampoo. First demonstrating with your own hair, you then work the product into your hands and through his tail. Careful not to mat it, you make sure all of it is clean right down to the base.

Though you're sure owners shouldn't use conditioner on their cats - or any products not designed specifically for pets - you also know he can't care for it himself. With how fluffy it is, you don't want his tail to get tangled when you dry it. As you work the conditioner in gently you notice he's much more relaxed, to the point where you think you can hear a faint purr to over the pitter patter against the tiles.

With him finally at ease, you suggest he try shampooing his hair himself. Butterflies fill your stomach as you watch him step under the showerhead to wet his hair. It's not like you've never showered with a guy before, but you never had to teach them how to shower; how not to get soap in his eyes, what a washcloth is for, how to use a bar of soap without dropping it, not to lick his hands clean afterwards.

At length you finish and step out, wrapping him up in a big, soft towel. You swaddle his tail in another one and take him back to the bedroom so that he can sit while you blow-dry his hair. Though at first he hates the sound being so close to his sensitive ears, the way you play with his tresses as you dry the roots has him dozing off in minutes.

You debate getting him used to the device by asking him to do his tail, but he looks so peaceful curled up on the bed - ears twitching now and then in his sleep - that you can't resist drying it yourself. All fluffed out, you brush it until it's silky soft, just as you always do for him, then cover him up with the spare quilt.

Though it's not even dinner yet and you didn't get up until noon, it feels like a very long day. Feeding and bathing your cat-turned-boy is all you've done but you're exhausted and clearly Charles is too. You wonder how parents do it day after day for years on end.

When he eventually wakes up from his cat nap, he's very pleased with your work and enthusiastically thanks you by rubbing his head on your shoulder. With a gentle purr in the back of his sugary voice, he asks to pet his tail to see just how soft it is.

“I guess you like the conditioner then?” you comment when he flicks it back into your lap for you to touch again.

“Condi-what?” he responds, taking his tail back and enjoying its softness for himself.

“The creamy one I massaged into your tail after shampoo. It's what makes your hair smooth. You can try it yourself next time.”

Tilting his head he asks, “How do I remember which is which? They all look the same…”

With your fingers combing through the silken fluff at his third request, you answer, “Just read the label. Oh… wait… You can't read, can you?”

He shakes his head and looks terribly sorry as he curls up into himself and wraps his tail around his ankles.

Your to-do list for tomorrow just became a lot longer.

Part 6

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