Work Text:
Breezepelt has a bad temper, sure, but he’s always just so furious at Crowfeather. He resents the tom that he calls a father. A father would’t ignore his kit, wouldn’t snarl at him for a stupid mistake, wouldn’t berate and humiliate him at every possible moment. Breezepelt knows his mother is right. Crowfeather hates him, so he’ll hate him right back.
But still, a part of him longs for his father’s embrace. He pushes it down, deep, deep, down. The feeling starts when he is a kit. He was lonely. He only had his mother, unlike the other kits. The feeling builds as he grows. It builds quicker as he becomes an apprentice, as he causes trouble and rebels in an attempt for his father’s attention. He only gets scornful, bitter glares. So, eventually, he tries to get Crowfeather’s attention in a different way. He lashes out, he avoids him, he pointedly leaves him out of activities, he yells and screeches at him, he does it all for a chance at something more than a glare. A response. An insult. A claw. A nip. A scolding. Anything.
When a ThunderClan warrior claims Crowfeather as her father, though, his heart stops. Because what if that’s the reason why he never paid attention to him? It’s a crazy, stupid, irrational idea, but what if?
Breezepelt is shocked. The rest of the Gathering passes by with a blink. He startles as he sees Crowfeather slinking away in the shadows.
Sunrises later, he is still stunned. He doubts. He doubts if Crowfeather has actually ever loved him. He doubts if he had known.
And then he spots him, alone, near the ThunderClan border. Breezepelt rushes to him without thinking, only his fears driving him forward. Crowfeather startles at the sight of his Clan-born son, but it quickly turns into a snarl.
“What are you doing here, Breezepelt?” Crowfeather demands, saying his name just as icily as ever.
”I should be the one asking you that, Crowfeather.” Breezepelt hisses, “Near the ThunderClan border, might I add?”
”I have no reason to tell you.” He snaps back, narrowing his eyes. Crowfeather turns his back as he starts walking away. And the feelings he had bottled up his entire life starts to spill.
”Why? Why, why, why!? Don’t just leave!” Breezepelt yells after him, “Answer me! Why? I just want your attention, I’ve been a good enough son, haven’t I? I just want your time, just for a Starclan-damned second!”
A moment of silence. Breezepelt opens the eyes he didn’t know he had closed. Crowfeather looks at him with his head tilted.
“..W-what are you looking at?” Breezepelt stammers defensively, feeling a bit embarrassed and awkward.
“You, obviously. Do you really want to know why I never paid any mind to you?” Crowfeather drawls, squinting at Breezepelt. Challenging him. Breezepelt hesitantly nods, now uncertain.
”It’s because you’re so pretty, Breezepelt. If I’d given you any attention, well.. it might’ve turned into something more, let’s just say.”Crowfeather purrs, as he slinks closer to Breezepelt. Breezepelt is frozen in shock, mouth open. He can only blink as Crowfeather circles the him.
“But, well, since you want my attention so badly, why not give it to you?” Crowfeather leans in his son’s ear as he pushes Breezepelt to the ground. Breezepelt breaks out of trance, and he starts thrashing around. He struggles harder when he feels something poking at his tailhole.
”Stop moving, Breezepelt. You said you wanted my attention, yes? Well now I’m giving it to you. It’s a miracle I’ve waited this long anyways.” Crowfeather hisses, pinning the younger tom beneath him. Breezepelt still tries to move, but his father is bigger and heavier than him. He whimpers as Crowfeather’s cock starts slowly thrusting, still not yet inside. It wasn’t as if he was waiting for it, right?
Breezepelt yelps as Crowfeather unsheathes his claws, pricking at his pelt. He whines when Crowfeather’s cock finally reaches inside him. What? No, he didn’t like this! Breezepelt whines again as Crowfeather starts shallowly thrusting against Breezepelt before pulling all the way out and thrusting back deeply in his hole. Breezepelt screeches as pain rocks his body.
”Oh, Breezepelt..I knew you’d make a great she-cat, I’ve been wanting to do this since you acted out as an apprentice.” Crowfeather says as he thrusts roughly. Breezepelt yowls in pain as he feels blood trickling down his leg. Tears prick at his eyes as his father mates him. He shakily sobs, breathing getting harder as Crowfeather continues roughly thrusting against him.
”Mmm..Such a good molly for me. Not making a peep now, huh? You don’t deserve to be called a tom, not with a hole this good. Better than your mother’s too.” Crowfeather praises, the first time he ever did. Breezepelt feels a warmth spreading, even as his father is forcibly thrusting inside him. If it gets Crowfeather to praise him..then maybe he’s okay with it. Breezepelt tries to weakly purr, forcing himself to relax his tense body. If it gets Crowfeather to praise him. Crowfeather chuckles, sheathing his claws and leaning of his son’s back.
”Yes, you know that, don’t you? You know you’re made for me, my perfect little molly.” Crowfeather purrs, grunting as he shoves his cock deeper in Breezepelt. The young tom pants, breath hitching as his body trembles.
“My own little molly.. if only you were a real one, so I can actually breed you full of kits.” Crowfeather sighs. Breezepelt tries to look up at his father, panicked as he wonders if he would leave him again. “Of course, I’m still planning to breed you. If only we could have kits! Imagine that. Maybe you’d let me mate them too, honor the tradition, yeah?” Crowfeather chuckles. Breezepelt purrs in relief, arching his back and tail higher for Crowfeather.
“Hah, so needy.. If I’d known you’d enjoy this, I’d have done it sooner.” Crowfeather sighs, lost in his own fantasy. His thrusts get rougher, sloppier. Breezepelt tries to relax his body. Finally, after some more deep thrusts, he comes inside the smaller tom. Crowfeather’s cock slides out with a pop, still slick and wet. Breezepelt starts shakily licking his tailhole, unsure of what to do.
“Well, I was on a hunting patrol, so I’ll get back to that. I’ll see you later, pretty molly.” Crowfeather says as he trots away. Breezepelt blinks. He sighs, slightly dejected at his father’s quick getaway. Well, he sure doesn’t want any cat to find out about this.
………
”Great StarClan..” Lionblaze whispers. He had been out to remark the border, until he saw Crowfeather, his biological father, straying near the scent line. He wanted to sprint to the border when the black tom nearly crossed it, but then Breezepelt, his scrawny half-brother, beat him to it. He had watched as the two toms exchanged hostile words, but then..
Crowfeather had mated with his son! And it looked as if Breezepelt..enjoyed it?
Lionblaze was confused. There’s no way someone would find pleasure in mating with their father, surely? But Breezepelt had seemed to like it.
I wonder if I’d like it. What? No, he could never like such a disgusting thing! Lionblaze shook his head. But the thought was still there, lingering, even as he walked back to camp. He didn’t say a word to Firestar. Why didn’t he do that?
The leader should know if-..if a father had mated with his kit, right? But it wasn’t his problem. Wasn’t his Clan. So he didn’t say a word.
Even as he laid in his nest in the middle of the night, he still couldn’t sleep. His thoughts trailed back to the event. How Crowfeather had praised Breezepelt’s hole. How he said the tom was pretty, how he was made to be a she-cat. How Breezepelt seemed to like the attention.
Lionblaze had to admit, Crowfeather was right. Breezepelt was pretty to look at. That silky, soft, black fur and those bright, amber eyes.. The way the small tom was so defensive and arrogant.. The way he was so docile and submissive when Crowfeather thrusted in him. Even he could admit, Breezepelt was a sight to admire.
He didn’t want to erase that memory. And the best to way to remember something is to think about it, right?
Lionblaze’s fantasies about roughly thrusting inside the scrawny, aggressive tom until he was dumb and loose lulled him to sleep for the next moon.
If only he could test it out himself.