His Kitten

02

|E M E R S O N|

Emerson awoke with a start, bolting upright in bed. He was breaking out in a cold sweat. His shirt clung to his chest, his stomach rolling. He had had a nightmare, but something about it was so strange.

It actually started out as a wet dream. The kind that left you with some uncomfortable wood, but you couldn't necessarily complain about. It was like free porn that was created specifically for you!

     It was some steamy scene with an unknown person, but one thing was for sure- they were undeniably male. His features were unfocused, but he seemed so utterly familiar. Emerson could tell that he was much smaller than himself, and almost feminine in some ways. He had curvy hips, thick thighs, and... soft hair. It was a strange detail, but Emerson was certain of it. His lips fit perfectly with Emerson, and Emerson was about to drive it to third base...

After that delicious start, everything went downhill. The boy had started to fade away, slipping from his fingertips. Everything faded away.

Then Emerson found himself bound to a chair in a room with a bag over his head. Dirt caked his body and the smell of sweat abs blood was overpowering. Two people's voices could be hear. They were discussing the best ways to kill him.

Not him as in Emerson, but as in the mysterious figure from the scene before. All Emerson knew was that he would not- could not- let the boy come to any harm.

Then the dream changed again. He and the unknown boy were standing face to face, about a 100 feet apart. A gun rested in Emerson's palm and it shook as he tried to pull it down, but found he could not. He screamed at the boy to run, but he didn't move an inch. Emerson pleaded and tried as hard as he could to put the firearm away, but came to no avail.

Emerson's father was beside him, cheering him on. Saying that he needed to pull the trigger. That if he didn't, Charles would. His voice whispered in his head. For some reason, Emerson thought it would somehow be better if Emerson killed him.

Kill him. Pull the trigger. He doesn't deserve to live. He never loved you. Just do it! End its miserable life. KILL HIM!

The last thing he heard before waking up was a gunshot and a cry for help from the innocent person.

Wrapping his arms around himself, Emerson chewed on his lip. That wasn't just any random person. There was some strong connection between them, but Emerson couldn't tell what.

Even though Emerson was openly bisexual, as he said, "pleasure is pleasure, no matter who is giving it," the thought of that person being his mate troubled him. How was he supposed to bestow a heir for the Mighty Thunder pack if he had a man as a mate?

     Shaking away all thoughts of the nightmare, Emerson pushed himself off his bed. He stumbled into his bathroom.

     He walked over to the toilet, flipping the seat up. He sighed as he relieved himself. A startled meow came from behind his trash bin. Emerson looked down nonchalantly to see none other than his cat, Cain.

     Emerson blushed, even though he didn't know why. It was a cat! Who cares if a cat saw your ding-a-ling, it's not like Cain had never seen it before. Chuckling, Emerson bent down and plucked Cain from the ground after pulling up his breeches.

     "Hey bud. Sorry you had to see that..." Emerson laughed nervously.

     Cain made a disgusted face and coughed up a hair ball. It was Emerson's turn to scrunch up his nose.

     "You are nasty, you know that?" Emerson shook his head.

     Cain howled, as if to say that Emerson was just the same as him. This earned a faint smile from Emerson. They communicated so well with each other...

Cain begin to nibble on Emerson's fingers. Emerson knew well what this meant. Cain always did this when he was hungry.

"Let's get you some food, 'kay kitty?" Cain replied with another nip at Emerson's fingertip.

In the kitchen, Emerson was about to fill Cain's bowl with the average cat food, but Cain hissed and whined. Emerson shook his head. Cain hated cat food.

Emerson walked back into the pantry. He glanced at Cain and the shelves of food. His gaze snapped between the two.

"Cain... If I give this to you, you'll become a fat cat..." Emerson frowned.

Shrugging, Emerson grabbed a can of chunky tuna fish. He pulled the tab and opened. He squeezed the juices out at the sink. Setting it on the table, Cain jumped into Emerson's lap and began to dig into the delightful fish.

Emerson stroked his fluffy cat's back, Cain emitting a purr. Emerson chuckled and Cain continued to stuff his face. Soon Cain was licking the sides clean, all signs of tuna gone.

"Well that was fast..." Emerson muttered to himself.

Emerson poured himself a glass of milk, Cain snuggled up in his one arm. Emerson took a sip, Cain also lapping up a tiny bit for himself. Emerson didn't mind, he was used to sharing with Cain. Cain was like a ninja, or a thief, always snatching away your food. But who couldn't love him? He was the best cat in the world.

Emerson hated it, but he knew he had to get ready for school. He shuffled up the stairs and lazily changed his clothes from the night before. He brushed his teeth and just left his hair in its natural disheveled way. He pulled a pair of sunglasses over his eyes, hiding all signs of his hangover.

Tromping down the stairs again, Cain followed Emerson's every step. Emerson planted a kiss on Cain's head and headed out the door. Cain whimpered and whined, trying to make him stay. Emerson was half tempted to, but he knew better.

Locking the door behind him, Emerson jogged up to his car. He slid in the drivers seat of his Ford truck. Twisting the keys into the ignition, the car rumbled to a start.

Emerson hated school. Everything about it. He always had to be someone else, act like he was happy. It was a painful torture to get through the days.

As he pulled into the larking lit of the school, a sl#tty girl waltzed up to him. In Emerson's mind, what she was wearing was ridiculous. A tiny blue short skirt hugged her butt, only a few inches long. She wore a small crop top that not only showed off her belly piercing, but a large amount of her cleavage. The girl sidled up to him, her 6 inch heels making her eye level with the tall boy.

"Oh, hey Emerson! I had a great time last weekend," she but her lip and winked at him.

"Sorry, who are you?" Emerson raised an eyebrow.

"I'm Cathy! Remember? From the party?" Cathy's voice was like a high pitched whine.

"Yeah, no. Scadoodle, that was just a one-night stand..." Emerson shooed her away and she huffed before stomping off. What a fake plastic b*tch.

"Man, you always making the girls run away, ain't ya? What if she was your future mate?" Emerson's best friend snickered.

Emerson hadn't noticed Connor who must have snuck up on him. He flipped him the birdy, striding into the lovely place called Westfield High.