Delinquent Student and his Pet Teacher

The wind was howling loudly this night.

With the moon standing high, illuminating the street more than the flickering few streetlights along the deserted path, the wolf’s heavy steps dragged him down the street. An agonising walk to get some knowing eyes on his still fresh and throbbing wound, the pain stopping his pace from time to time making him curse the doctor for living on the outskirts of the town. Cursing him but still being thankful that he had the place to go to, it couldn’t be helped now, he had to get to him before the bloodloss got to the wolf.

Visible in his paw dangled the dark brown collar, swaying with his movement. Once his mind was reminded of it again, his thoughts gained the same curiosity that it had before he left. He was completely puzzled by Puss in Boots behaviour. He couldn’t think of a single situation where someone he had targeted wouldn’t have tried to flee in a situation like that and even if Puss had already tried, yet there he was.

The wolf’s white paw glides over his patched up wound again.

He didn’t understand it, did he even think of running? Did the thought of maybe even ending Muertes life then and there, to get out of this, cross his mind? 

The frightened green eyes flashed through his mind again and Muerte winced with the pain of his wound as if the thought of the cat had left it there.

It just didn’t make any sense to him, but his own knocking at the door in front of him shoved those thoughts aside. It was already the middle of the night, almost morning when he leaned onto the rough wood of the doorframe. He could see that there wasn’t a single light in any of the houses down the street, not even in this one. The moment passed and the wind grew still, when his breath replaced all the noises he heard, he had to push himself off the wall again, nobody answered.

A growling sigh accompanied his movements as he made his way to the garden, in his mind he now had to carefully plan his next movements, he couldn’t waste too many. 

Damn this doctor for his deep sleep, but thankfully the way up to his bedroom window was no problem, almost as if he had practised it too often. The low white fence was way too easy to climb, his arm reached up to the porch roof without any problem after he sat on the railing, the cross fencing leading from the ground right up to the bedroom window made the perfect ladder to not put too much stress on his arms.

He peered inside the room, knowing that the doctor should be home and in his bed, still he had to make sure. The bright underside of his dark feet poking out from under the blanket that rose with every snoring breath let him know, good, he really was home.

The wolf wanted to bang onto the window before he just went inside, but the strength slowly left him. How very convenient that his new toys fit into the creaks of the window just too perfectly to open them.

He lets himself in, sliding through the half open window. He had to stop himself from dropping straight to the floor when his paws hit the ground inside. He waited a moment to catch his breath before he let the sliding window slam shut. The large man in the bed shrieked awake with the loud thud, immediately rummaging around, probably to get the knife under his pillow before he turns on the light. The wolf stood still in the same spot, the sudden brightness hurt his eyes and made the wolf flinch, the shimmering on the knife made it even worse, but he kept his almost stance, leaned onto the window sill with great effort.

“Who’s–?!” The doctor's voice immediately stops as he sees the silhouette of the wolf and his red eyes glow. “You…” He lowers his knife as he recognizes the wolf. “I have a door you know.” His voice sounded greatly annoyed with him and his posture showed that he was already used to this happening from time to time.

“As if you’d answer your door now .” The wolf murred as an answer.

“It is the middle of the night- “ He got cut off by Muerte’s intense trembling as he tried to stand up straight. The blanket flutters and the man flies onto his feet to try and catch the wolf before he’d fall, only to be immediately met by the red eyes staring at him at full height. No matter how hurt he may get, Muerte always did his best to stand proud and strong in front of his followers, making sure he showed them that he was still strong even in his weakest moments. He wouldn’t want his leadership being questioned even a little bit, he had to make sure his men could rely on him.

“God, what happened this time?!” He grabbed onto the wolf, getting him out of his stance and onto the chair not too far from him. “The bakers happened.”

The next conversation points were already a pain for the wolf, groaning as the doctor went on to talk. He was probably scolding him for taking on a fight that was way too much for him once again, but he was already in and out of consciousness especially with the bandaids getting ripped off of his ribcage. The next moments turned into a blur with the only thing he was able to feel being the needles stabbing into him to sew him back up.

With his consciousness and his even heartbeat slowly returning to him his white paw wandered over the fresher wounds on his stomach, the already dried blood barely sullied the white fur. Those tiny scratches were nothing compared to the ripped open wound on his ribcage, yet his thoughts wandered to them with the first conscious thought he got. They made him remember how he had left Puss, laying face down on the blanket, all four paws sprawled out, ever so slightly on the brink of consciousness, wetting the blanket not only with his tears and spit. It was quite the sight to see him all broken like that, what a joy even just remembering it.

A tug on the thread that was stitching him together ripped him out of his thoughts, not a single moment letting him linger on them today, it seemed.

“You look quite satisfied for someone who almost got slaughtered by Jack’s men…” 

“Pff…” The wolf scoffs. “I had it under control.”

“Clearly…” The doctor tugs at the thread one more time before he cuts it. “You can count yourself lucky that you had someone to give you first aid, you know.”

The room grew quiet, the doctor didn’t get any growls as an answer like he thought he would and raised a brow, Muerte didn’t even look at him. “Who did that anyways? Surely not one of your classmates?” The questions seemed to fall on deaf ears as he still didn’t get any answers to them. “Whoever it was did a pretty good job with how limited they must’ve been.” The wolf twitched, that seemed to get a reaction out of him.

He turned to the doctor, disbelief showing in his face. “What?” Muerte lifted his arm, examined his freshly stitched wound and all the patches laying on the tiny table next to him.

The doctor repeated himself and the wolf’s mind spun a little bit further. “You’re kidding me…”

The man next to him seemed even more confused by how perplexed the wolf was. “What? No? With no bandages or first aid kit at hand, the way this was done was the best it could have been done. Without it, the blood loss would have gotten to you way earlier than you got to me.” He dips the used towel into a bowl full of water while explaining, turning back to see a nasty smile stare at him with beady eyes. It made the doctor flinch back before Muerte quickly turned around.

The wolf couldn’t help but let out a laugh before he turned away, this couldn’t possibly be happening. His eyes grew wider as his thoughts grew more and more eager about the cat, had he really broken him that badly? So badly that he’d stay to save his life? After all he’s done to him? A small chuckle emerges in his throat. If the doctor was right about what he said and evidently he was by the way Puss acted after he woke back up… His smile grew bigger underneath his paw that was trying to hide the sinister energy emerging on his face, he was trying his best to suppress his laughter, but to no avail. Next to him the doctor already moved away from him, being severely creeped out by the young man as it already was, his behaviour was just an absolute mystery to him, no matter how long he knew him already.

“Sometimes you just creep me the hell out, you know that?”

While the quiet almost giggling persisted, the doctor already shooed him out of his bedroom.

— — —

Begrudgingly two days had already passed since that night with Puss, Muerte had been bedridden with a slight fever for one and a half days since his injury wouldn’t let him go that easily, nonetheless his mood seemed high. He flicked a coin into the air with a loud chime just to catch it again, whistling a tune not normally in his repertoire, a chipper one, making his canine classmates just a bit nervous as he passed them in the hallway. In school, his stride was as casual as could be, one paw in his pocket the other playing with the coin, walking down the hall to pass the teachers lounge once more, glancing inside there was no sight of the cat. He hums the last few notes of his tune, somehow he wasn’t as disappointed as he would have been before, even if two days had passed, the beloved teacher couldn’t make it back to the school yet? Normally the wolf would have already taken the initiative to go and look for him or coax him back outside, but something inside of him gave him the patience to let Puss off the hook for just a day longer, after all, he had been so obedient lately. His face flashed a bright grin as he walked off.

The next day wasn’t any different. The cat’s seat was empty, the air clear of his smell, nothing to indicate he was around. The wolf was disappointed at his lack of attendance, but enjoyed not having to see him strut through the hallways, getting off on the attention of his students, using them and acting like he was some saving grace. Surely he wasn’t going to act that way anymore when he’d come back, right? 

As he passed a door to one of the classrooms, something bumped into his leg. He turned his head down to see the female white cat meet his eyes, her’s were beady and wet with tears. She didn’t stay for long until she ran off towards the entrance of the school. Her look confused him, did she get into trouble with the teachers again? She was quite the easy target, even for Puss in Boots. The wolf watched her go and felt a slight sting, remembering the last time she and Puss talked, he wouldn’t want her to interact with him again. Who knows what could happen next if they did.

The day after that tugged at his patience. Still no sight of the cat in the school. The chipper tune was gone completely as he walked, around him the noise grew and his walk through the hallway turned sour. The school's fouls were at full display, but he couldn’t care too much. He wanted to make sure that Puss wouldn’t be hiding from him anywhere now, Muerte was sure that he had to be cleverer than this by now, didn’t he learn anything? Running or hiding wouldn’t work, Puss, his men would let him know if they’d catch a glimpse of him too far from his home.

He dodged a chair being lifted into the air out of a classroom, the students truly seemed in more disarray today. The teachers clearly not caring about this at all, just standing at the back of the hallway, smoking inside. Whatever it was that was going on, his thoughts wouldn’t stop to think about that damned gato and this day made that quite clear to him now.

He sat down in the corner of the classroom, his usual spot, his paw massaged his face, slowly, he thought, slowly the cat was turning him completely upside down. His mind just wouldn’t stop replaying the memory of Puss shifting his hips just right for him, even the thought of him having saved his life wasn’t that prominent. He was still so puzzled by his behaviour. Muerte wanted to know more, he needed to know more, what was going on with his gatito?

Yet another day passed and the morning bell of the school rang through the hallways once more. This time the wolf knew that if he didn’t find the tabby today, that he had to go look for him. He huffs with aggression as he gets near the same door he passed every morning, peering inside to find an empty seat where the small orange ears should be peeking out of. Still not here, gato? Now you’re making someone worried. Had he already given up on the school? What about his beloved students that he had cared for so much in the past, he couldn’t have…

Wait— was he seriously worried about him? Impossible.

Quickly he adjusted his walk and kept going, there was still no orange tabby here, he could smell it, he didn’t even need to look inside. Worried? Him? About such an infuriatingly arrogant and selfish little shit? No, no, that wasn’t it, that clearly wasn’t it. That couldn’t –

“Lobo, dare I say... that you seem a little obsessed with the Gato?”

Fury flashed inside of him as his mind replayed those words with that damned cheeky smile of his, followed by an immediate outburst making a trashcan fly through the long hallway, hitting the one or other student along the way. They wanted to turn to him and yell, but the look on his face made them shut up quickly. His furious growl turned into a heavy breath in the hopes to calm him down and he turned to the entrance to leave. His paw wandered over his face as he had to admit it to himself, he was obsessed with him. Why, why was he so goddamn obsessed with him?! He was looking at the same seat day after day, expecting him to be back, for what? To play with him again? Like a young pup expecting their toy to be thrown or what? Now he felt quite humiliated by Puss, was that his goal? To get Muerte infatuated with him and then leave him like a teenager longing for their first cru– 

Before the realisation hit, a certain smell that just passed by his nose caught his full attention and as if putting a blanket over a burning fire, his thoughts extinguished with the lovely smell that led his nose outside. Oho~? Just like he had guessed, Puss in Boots would show up one of these days, he wouldn’t back down from the likes of him , right? The same heinous smile creeped onto his face again as he walked towards a side of the school that both of them rarely saw the sight of. There it was, like a thick layer of cologne it lingered in the air, being brought to him with a slight breeze of the wind. Undoubtedly the smell of the popular ginger furred teacher that he had quivering under his paw so often. The anticipation grew with the strength of the smell, a slight hint of fear crept underneath it, so what if he was obsessed with him? He licked his teeth, the hunger grew, would it be so bad if he really was?

He rounded the corner and the chuckling that had just started in his throat stopped at the sight in front of him, his joyful anticipation leaving him quicker than it came, draining the smile from his face.

The wall surrounding the school’s premise didn’t leave a lot of space at the sides of the school, a completely gray area, visibly and metaphorically. There they stood in the small space between, almost as if in an embrace, close to each other like they were having a deeply intimate conversation.

Puss held onto the white furred student.

She was in tears, almost unable to hold herself up while the… the oh-so-great Puss in Boots only laughed at her face, holding her arm and petting her head. There it was again, his over the top charisma, his play with the students, the same old spiel that he always did, the same old Puss in Boots. 

Was this what made him come here? Was this the only thing that made him come here? 

His vision could only focus on his ginger face as he moved towards them, not even noticing that his feet went into motion. Another wave of fury took control of his actions that he only noticed when the tabby flinched and his emerald eyes landed on the wolf. With quick motions and an almost calm face he sent the girl away from the spot, telling her to run as quickly as she could, but when she didn’t do as planned, Puss in Boots once again played the hero and placed himself in front of her, assuring her that she should leave.

Puss almost lunged forward as the wolf’s steps grew in pace, to stop him from entering a sprint. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, amigo!” His voice seemed calm but Muerte could hear the slight waver in it. “What are you planning on doing with that knife?!” Puss pointed at the opened knife in Muerte’s paw, that he had drawn in his blind rage. The white cat behind him was heavily confused and seemed extremely frightened by the wolf’s sudden violent side. “We wouldn’t want anything stupid happening here, ay? Amigo ?”

Puss did his best to keep his composure and defuse the situation as quickly as possible, still trying to lead the student behind him into a direction where it would be easy for her to leave. “Put the knife away and nobody has to know.” He has a slight grip on her, to let her know she doesn’t need to get help, nor scream, he’d have it under control.

“ What are you doing here?!” The wolf’s snarl made her flinch and cower behind Puss, who took a glance at her. With her here, he couldn’t say what would need to be said, he had to keep the situation calm and especially as surface level as he could.

“I’m here to help a classmate of yours, ahora guarda el maldito cuchillo, pandejo! ” Puss turned more and more demanding as the wolf closed the gap between them, the knife getting closer to him, or rather to her. He could take it, but she was still way too scared. “Hah!” Muerte stopped in his tracks, “To help her? Don’t kid yourself.” He pointed the knife at them, not taking him seriously at all, to help a student? With what Muerte knew about him? What a joke. 

“It… it’s true!” The white cat cried behind Puss. “He.. he only came here to save me!” 

Muerte’s ears twitched at her words. “ Save you?” His query made Puss shush her. “N-no, Mr Boots, if this is because of me I wouldn’t want to get you into trouble, I would rather he knows that you–” Puss sternly turns to her to silence her again. “This isn’t because of you, Dulcina, I just don’t want anyone else to hear this as well, let me handle it.” Puss could see the fear he now knew so well in her eyes, he waited until he got a sign that she understood. She slowly nodded her head and part of the fear got replaced by the trust in her teacher.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Muerte chuckled, “I don’t think you understand, chiquita. What makes you think Mr. Boots wouldn’t turn around and just use you for his own gain, eh?” Unable to take control of his anger, Muerte waved and pointed the knife in their direction, still not taking the situation seriously and it made Puss furious in return. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Dulcina cried and it surprised the both of them. “You don’t know what he’s done for me! How dare you even suggest that he would do that!” The sincere anger in her eyes let Muerte’s rage waver. How was she so sure? How did she trust in him that much when Muerte clearly knew how Puss felt about his students in the past.

“Oh, good job, gatito.” Puss turned to the wolf, his gaze fierce, but unlike Muerte, he at least tried to control his anger, but the frustration still showed. He grabbed his head and let out an angry growl. “If you would just get that damned thing away from us, maybe we could have a civilised conversation, you–!” He swallowed the urge to swear at him, but Muerte had already filled that blank in his head.

The wolf took a deep breath and Puss hoped he would finally calm down, but instead he was met with a deep growl that only grew as he closed his knife and turned away. “Fine!” He barked. With the knife vanishing in his pockets, Puss lowered his shoulders in relief. He sighed and turned to his other student again, a charming smile adorning his face. “Thank you, Dulcina, everything is under control now,” he reassured her, “now keep this to yourself, alright? We wouldn’t want to let anyone know that Lobo over there listened to a teacher for once, right?” He whispered behind a paw and threw her a final wink. She was still unsure about this, but seeing the wolf groan and massage his face in frustration made her giggle. “Alright, I’ll keep his secret, but only because it’s you Mr. Boots.” 

“Now get going before anyone sees you here!” He sends her off in the direction opposite of the wolf, which was the longer, but safer way.

The air grew heavy after the girl left. Muerte saw the feline's breathing change as soon as they were alone. Deep in every fibre of his being he felt the need to grab him again and question him. What was he thinking going behind his back again, didn’t he learn his lesson, doesn’t he know how the wolf would react if he would find out?!

None of them spoke nor turned to each other, but Puss could feel the seething anger from the white wolf behind him. His head turned towards Muerte ever so slightly after he noticed his paw behind him, his eyes barely visible to the canine.

“You wanna know why I came here today?”

Muerte wanted to know more than anything, with a burning sensation in his gut, but he couldn’t say that out loud now, could he?

“I came here for her, because she called me crying, begging me to help her out.”

The small cat turned to him, having such a serious look in his eyes that the wolf hadn’t seen before.

“You wanna know why I was at horner’s that night?”