Francisco and Dos
       
       Francisco’s breath was heavy and his heart was pounding. “Be still, oh traitorous organ!” The black cat pressed a paw to his chest in an attempt to still his quavering heartbeat, but it wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, the rest of his body began to shake at the insistence of his cowardly heart. “Thou hast got to get thineself together, Francisco!” He cursed at himself and slumped against the nearest wall. 
       
       He tried to take some staggered breaths to steady himself, but it didn’t do anything to help. Anxious as he was, it felt like his vile heart was about to leap straight from his throat. He had come to San Lorenzo feeling so brave too. Under his compatriot’s prodding he had been genuinely excited to come and profess his feelings. Now he was cowering like a child. 
       
       “The worst thing he can say is, no.” Balthazar had told him that. “I mean, he’ll totally say no, but that’s the worst thing he could do right?” Oddly it had been encouraging, though it had been much more encouraging when Philip had pressed the crushed up flowers into his paw and pushed him off. 
       
       Now he stared at the mostly crushed roses just to steady his breath. “This was stupid.” He shook his head and crumpled the petals a bit more. There was no hope that a fearless, handsome, glorious cat like the one and only Puss in Boots would ever return the affection of some strange hopeless stray cursed with bad luck after all. “This was really stupid.” His breath started to steady for second, then he slapped himself and it got shaky again. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from losing his nerve and crying. 
       
       “But, foolish or not, thine goal is noble and thou shall not be diverted from the path!” Francisco’s heart wouldn’t stop pounding, but there was no sense in stopping now that he was this far. He held Philips flower tightly and swore to the sky as he pulled himself up. “Thou wilst declare thine love, pure and honest! And thou shalt reap most deserved reward for thine bravery!” He bolstered himself up as much as he could in his head. 
       
       It didn’t really have much impact. He tried, but in spite of all the bluster he tried to muster, embarrassment overpowered every drive to move forward. He only managed to take a single step ahead before it overcame him entirely.
       
       “Nope, actually, nope.” He froze, sweating for just a moment. Then, with a staggering speed, he turned and darted toward the nearest alley, slamming his back to the wall. “Who are you kidding, man?” He shook humiliated by the very idea of confessing. Puss had already seen his journal after all, he knew everything. “There’s no way he’ll be interested… probably just laugh at you.”
       
       Francisco’s breath became haggard as the embarrassment took him. He slid against the wall limply and slammed his eyes shut. In the darkness, the thoughts were even more overwhelming. “Well, what did we really expect?” That’s what Balthazar would tell him. There wasn’t any hope to begin with, just foolhardy bravado. And that could only get you so far. 
       
       He set his paw on his chest, unable to still his traitorous heart anymore than his traitorous breathing. Were he left to his thoughts in the dark for much longer, he would surely have broken down crying. 
       
       Something broke through before he could though. “Oh! Hi, pretty kitty!” Francisco’s eyes shot open, suddenly, he’d been caught. The voice was unfamiliar, enough to put him on edge. So, he pulled himself to a stand with as much bravado as he could muster to face the stranger, even raising a paw in self-defense without thought.
       
       Then, he saw him, the object of his affection, the gloriously handsome orange-furred hero, Puss in Boots. He was just, there suddenly, standing right next to him, not even an arm’s length away. His smile was uncharacteristic, innocent and kind, and, strangely, he was wearing a paper hat and not much else. Still, it was undeniably the cat of Francisco’s dreams.
       
       On seeing him, Francisco’s cursed heart beat even stronger. As struck as he was, he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing at his chest no matter how much bravado he tried to gather. “Oh! S-Sir Puss! Thou hast caught me in a most compromised moment!” He managed to stop himself just short of stuttering. Now he might have no choice but to profess his feelings. “How curious the fates wouldst put us together at such a fortuitous time!”
       
       Puss smiled at him. Unflinching as he spoke. Francisco smiled right back, uncertain if he’d even been heard for a moment. He started to shake a bit before Puss responded. “Hehe, you talk pretty, pretty kitty.”
       
       Francisco went stiff at that. He hadn’t noticed the compliment before, but his ears were alight with it now. “P-p-p-pretty... w-wh-” He was struck so stiff by the words suddenly hitting him that he might have lost the will to stand. He did stagger back, but, to his surprise, Puss caught him. 
       
       It was sudden and startling. Francisco went limp at the sudden touch, though he when stiff again a moment later when Puss pressed his nose against his fur and took a deep, longing breath. “Hehe. You smell pretty too. Fishy…” Francisco was so shocked by the feeling that he couldn’t begin to think. Puss didn’t slow either down, sniffing all over him. “Mm… shrimpy…”
       
       “P-P-” Francisco shivered, uncertain what to do. The affection was sudden, but not wholly unwelcome. In truth, it wasn’t even slightly unwelcome. He had wanted for Puss’s affection for so long and yet had no will to reach for it. Yet now, without the barest provocation, he was showered with it. He had barely even said hello. He considered now as perhaps his moment to lay his feelings bare. But, before he could, Puss took things a step further. “A-ah! S-sir Puss!”
       
       It was utterly overwhelming. Even being so close to Puss was enough to drive the black cat to madness, but feeling the hero’s tongue against his fur was absolutely too much. Francisco felt the urge to pull away it was so much, but all he could will his body to do was shake, and that wasn’t near enough to loose himself from the other cat’s grip. 
       
       Even worse, Puss stopped his licking, but offered no reprieve for the black cat. “You taste good…” The orange cat laughed against Francisco. It sounded almost childish, lost as he was in the taste of Francisco’s fur. “Hehe… pretty kitty tastes like shrimp….”
       
       The compliment absolutely floored Francisco. It was enough to make his knees buckle, were he not scared of toppling. “T-tis just p-paella!” He shouted, struck again by Puss’s licking shortly. That was the final push, the last straw that made his desire to crumple overwhelm his anxieties. The only thing keeping him standing then was Puss’s hold on him. And that hold wouldn’t keep for long. 
       
       When Francisco started to fall back, Puss held him steady even then, at first, but his need to push his muzzle against the black cat overcame any attempts to hold them still. Soon, it was obvious that he would be better off simply following Francisco to the ground. So, he let the pair tumble, landing harshly on the cobblestones while he moved down to the black cat’s chest.
       
       It was there that he stopped. Francisco watched him as though looking at a dream. The orange cat’s fur bristled, and he set his paws down firmly, mightily on the cobble stones. Then, he lifted his head. “Hee… pretty kitty,” he smiled at Francisco, his eyes fluttering. “We’re on the ground.” He almost seemed innocent when he said it. His smile was careless and effortlessly charming. It would have completely disarmed Francisco, had he not continued. “But, you’re backwards. I can’t get in.”
       
       Francisco’s tail flicked against the cobblestone, and his legs kicked involuntarily. Crushed as he was by Puss’s weight and overwhelmed as his mind had been by the kisses, he hadn’t noticed it at first. Puss’s innocent smile and loving compliments hid a virile lust that he could feel pressing against him. His mind, flooded as it was, couldn’t get a sense of just how powerful this lust was, but he could tell it was intense. And now that he was aware of it, he was completely at a loss for how to respond. “I-I-”
       
       He fortunately didn’t need to respond. Puss took the lead, confident as ever. First, he silenced Francisco with a proper kiss. It wasn’t sudden this time. Puss stared noticeably at Francisco while he stuttered, and after just a brief breath, he reached forth with his tongue invade the black cat’s mouth with a fervor just as great was when he had kissed his shoulder. It was excited and masterful, licking all across Francisco’s mouth and savoring it. 
       
       And when he pulled back, he was innocently licking his lips. “Fishy…” He purred over the now utterly stunned black cat. Both of them shivered. “Can you turn over, pretty?”
       
       Stunned as he was, Franciso could only nod. Though, once the warmth of life rushed back to his limbs, he turned over without question. Puss smiled down at him the whole while, only stopping to press his muzzle against Francisco once the black cat had mostly turned. That way, Francisco could feel his charming grin and his intoxicating purring even when he couldn’t see him anymore.
       
       “Sir Puss…” Francisco started to breath heavily. His body so naturally assumed a position under the hero while Puss goaded him on. Even with it betraying his every want though, he was nervous. His tail flicking under Puss was giving him more of a sense of the hero’s virility. It was positively intimidating, and he wanted it so desperately he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay silent. “D-dost thou r-really wanteth me, so badly as to… to take me so suddenly?” He closed his eyes, trying to forget they were simply hidden in an alleyway with barely more than shadows for cover. 
       
       Puss’s response was thoughtless. “You’re soft…” He rubbed against Francisco with every part of his body that had purchase, though the black cat only really took note of his muzzle and his groin. Both touches worked with the compliment to get him purring uncontrollably. He only noticed Puss’s paws grabbing onto him after the hero’s virility finally rubbed backwards, past his tail and down his hip. “Rrr…. So pretty…” He could feel the spines pass roughly over his fur, and the warmth of it set his blood aflame. 
       
       His will overcome by that warmth, Francisco moved just as thoughtlessly as Puss. He raised his hips and pushed back against the hero’s massive manhood reflexively, and his paws reached forward and extended his claws in a futile attempt to grab to the cobblestone. All of this was done with no purpose but passion. Puss thrust against him similarly, but neither cat even thought to care for technique or aim. The rough touch of Puss’s sword merely pressed aimlessly against Francisco’s sensitive backside without care. 
       
       But, eventually there was pause. The hero laughed and took a deep, meaningful breath against Francisco’s neck. Then, his manhood stiffened, twitched, and reeled back. Francisco felt it as though it was an eternity, suddenly aware for but an instant that his life as a virgin was at an end. His own manhood twitched as he was flooded with thoughts of the times he’d imagined this very day, times he had practiced. It was nothing like this. He started to whimper, overwhelmed
       
       Then, Puss finally pressed into him, and his world opened, welcoming the other cat, though not without resistance. “A-aaaahhhhhhrrrrwwllll!” Francisco yowled viciously. The intrusion was fierce and hot, Puss’s sword’s barbed sides burned against him, overwhelming his senses so that he was not even aware of anything else. He didn’t even notice his claws scratching uselessly against stone, nor the sound of his own humiliatingly feral voice. He couldn’t even feel the warmth of Puss pressed against his back. The burn was too much. 
       
       And yet, he couldn’t stand the notion that it had taken him so long to feel such a passion. It overwhelmed all thought, all concerns, all humiliation. In that moment, burning more and more as he felt more of the hefty manhood press against his innermost world, he felt more loved than he had ever felt before. 
       
       And even once the burning started to soften, allowing just enough for his other senses to return, that feeling of love did not fade. The burning barely did either, truth told. It merely became softened enough for Francisco to feel it truly tear at him as Puss thrust harder, back and forth. It was just enough of a calming that Franciso could then be overwhelmed when it combined with the feeling of Puss on his back, rubbing viciously against his neck. It was also just enough to make him aware of his humiliating cries. “F-fuck! Puss!”
       
       Puss’s cries were nearly as feral, but not as uncontrolled. While his purring shook the black cat beneath him, he was able to at least speak. “Mmmrrr…. Talk pretty more…” He kissed the black cat’s neck encouragingly. Francisco thought it was supposed to be a comfort, and it was, distracting him from the burning for just a moment. However, it didn’t assist him in becoming less overcome. 
       
       Nonetheless, he tried, for his hero. “S-sir, ah! P-Pusssss….” He growled, unable to hold back the hisses or his urges. He thrust his hips back, thoughtlessly pressing against Puss’s hips and taking the full length of his sword into him. It wasn’t purposeful, but it did force Puss to pause and breathe for long enough for him to try again. “A-avail this knave, a-a b-blessing!” He managed to shout out the first thought that came to him before his knees buckled and Puss overwhelmed him again. “A-Ah! Fuck me! Harder!”
       
       Puss purred viciously, terrifyingly at the request. Francisco felt the vibrations pierce the very core of his being. The hero complied, thrusting hard and strong the moment Francisco’s hips dropped. Then he thrust again, and again. Each time it was just as piercing, just as passionate. Francisco coveted every brief moment of the feeling of such love, holding on tightly to each instance as long as he could. Finally though, it was too much. 
       
       Francisco sank into the heat, dropping nearly entirely to the ground as he came. Any small amount of will left vanished entirely as his body both contracted and stretched reflexively, twitching without any thought but the need for more of his hero’s love. Even his speaking was thoughtless. “Sir…. Puss…”
       
       He might have passed out. Everything went black. The only thing that kept him on this plane was the burning at his back and a sudden, similar burning at his neck. He knew it was a bite, somewhere in his mind. In his blackness though, it was just another burning short of love. 
       
       Then, things finally cooled. Francisco felt it at his back at first. Something warm and soothing filled him as the hero’s virile manhood swelled and pulsed, still now but beating powerfully. Thoughts returned, and he yowled softly as he realized what it meant to be claimed by his hero so fully. His whole body ached with the passion of the feeling. 
       
       After that, the soothing came to his neck. He hadn’t even realized how much it had hurt until the aches set in, but that pain was gone in an instant, smothered by a rough, loving kiss and a few kind words. “Hee… I like you, pretty.” It suddenly dawned on Francisco that Puss was embracing him again, fully dropping his weight on top of the black cat and holding firm to their passionate bond. Feeling that, the only thing Francisco could do was sink more, purring just as viciously as the cat above him. 
       
       He allowed the blackness to fade slowly as Puss filled his world with that passion. It, embarrassingly, hadn’t dawned on him that he had closed his eyes in the throes of ecstasy. That said, he was in no hurry to open them and let light in to quiet the feelings. He only did so grudgingly, knowing that he could not rest forever in the alleyway. 
       
       Blessedly, he opened his eyes to a magnificently welcoming sight. His beloved hero was sat in front of him, standing as proud as ever, his manhood on full display. “Ah… Sir Puss…” He moaned softly reveling in the view and the sensations of Puss’s still warm and loving embrace. 
       
       It wasn’t until Puss spoke that it dawned on Francisco that something was wrong. “Uh, hello, senor… I see you have met my doppelganger.” Puss smiled nervously, though the glint in his eyes kept his striking charm in spite of the shock that otherwise seemed to shake his confident stance. “You have my utmost apologies. I had not thought you would be in such a position when I heard the screaming.”
       
       Francisco’s mind froze, and for a moment his body did too. It was only the embrace of the other cat above him, who he was just beginning to realize he didn’t even know, that kept him from stiffening up entirely and running away from the awkward scene. “Uh… sir Puss, I-I-” He tried to stutter out something like an excuse, but he couldn’t even begin to think what to say. 
       
       Then, he was quieted abruptly by the doppelganger’s purring shaking through his body, piercing his very being. The other cat only stopped for just a moment when he too noticed Puss standing in front of them. “Oh! Hi, me!” He lifted his paw just briefly to wave before pulling Francisco even closer into the embrace. “I found a pretty kitty. He talks fun!”
       
       Francisco blushed at the innocent compliment, and he shuddered with embarrassment. Then, he shivered as he felt another surge of passion rush into him, right in front of his beloved hero. Overcome as he was, he couldn’t even begin to think anymore. So, he shut his eyes and sank back into the loving blackness, trying to forget his shame.
       
       He didn’t have much luck though. “Ah, so I see, Puss Dos. I will leave you and this pretty kitty to your revelry then.” Francisco shook, suddenly struck by the feeling of Puss’s paw running over him. “You have found a good one, senor.” It was impossible to ignore the overwhelming feeling then. Were he capable of it, he would certainly have passed out. 
       
       But Dos was still burning behind him, and cuddled in closer with Puss’s encouragement. “Hehe. Thanks, me. We’re gonna have lots of fun.” Francisco felt the stranger’s manhood affirm that intent, deep within him. In spite of everything, his own manhood returned the message, beating powerfully right alongside the stranger’s. 
       
       Francisco chose not to think right then, sinking into that feeling entirely. If there was something more to do today, then it would have to wait until later. It took all his focus now just to hold back the yowling and expressions of love for even a second more. That would not hold for long. For the moment there would be no choice but to revel. 
       
       After that, maybe he would readdress what he would confess…. And to whom.