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The evening of 31 July 1898…
Basil sat outside of Baker Street underneath the moonlight, holding Ratigan’s bell between his fingers. He hadn’t looked at it in over a year, but it still worked loud and clear. Even now, he didn’t know why he still kept it; for crying out loud, it was a reminder of the worst day of his life! Any normal mouse would’ve just thrown it away into the River Thames and let it sink to the bottom. But maybe Basil wasn’t normal; maybe in some sort of masochistic way, it was cathartic to relive the trauma of it all for a second time.
Then his mind shifted to how quickly his nights had changed since his arch-nemesis kissed him. Every time he thought about how Ratigan never should’ve been able to survive what happened, how they had found each other after all this time anyway, how much of a relief it had been to survive the media circus once Fidget unintentionally leaked their business to the press. The only reason that bat and the other thugs were still living to see another day was because of Basil convincing Ratigan that he had a much better solution in mind: moving in with them at Baker Street provided that they paid their rent on time, didn’t trash the place, and didn’t steal anything.
Fidget didn’t need to be told twice. Phil, Frank, and Bill the lizard reluctantly agreed to the terms.
Now as he sat outside underneath the moonlight with the bell in his hands, Basil turned to his husband and asked him: “Darling…do you ever get angry at the media for how they treated us after our privacy got leaked?”
“Hm? Oh, no, dear…sometimes it doesn’t matter what you do, old chap,” Ratigan told Basil. “You could be the most generous person in the world and the world will still try to find a problem with it! Nevertheless, it’s a good thing that I don’t need the world’s validation to love you until the day that I die, my darling!”
“Yes, well…I’m sure it helps that a certain bat of yours was so willing to make amends for his treacherous mistake!"
Ratigan didn’t answer, instead opting to kiss his husband.
The morning of August 1, 1898…
It was time for Ratigan to return home so that he could meet the Queen’s helpers at his doorstep and begin the moving process. His parole obligations weren’t technically up yet for another week, but if nobody else said anything about it, then neither would he. It was already bad enough waking up with the sun beaming in his face and looking down to see Basil curled up against him fast asleep. How could he possibly have the guts to leave such a wonderful sight?
Gently, he began to stir Basil awake. The mouse made a sweet cooing sound that nearly melted Ratigan’s entire soul as he slowly opened his eyes.
“Good morning, precious…how did you sleep?”
“Fine, thank you…I didn’t have any more nightmares for the first time…”
“Hmm, I assume that was because of me, eh?”
Basil rolled his eyes but kissed him anyway.
“You’d better get a move on if you want to meet the Queen’s helpers at your doorstep…”
“We’ve got time, old boy… hey won’t even be there until noon!”
“Hm…what to do until then…?”
They both exchanged a look, and Basil immediately climbed into Ratigan’s arms.
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Downstairs, Mrs. Judson was the first one to feel the house shaking down to its foundation. She burst out of the kitchen, still wearing her oven mitts, and stood still for a moment to make sure that she wasn’t losing her sanity. Sure enough, the ground underneath her feet was trembling slightly, and if she listened closely enough, she could almost hear… MOANING?
“What in heaven’s name?!”
She ran to wake up Dawson, who had fallen asleep in Basil’s favourite armchair.
“Bloody hell, Dawson, wake up! Do you feel that?!”
“…Zzz…huh? What?”
Mrs. Judson placed a hand on his arm to hold him still.
“The shaking! Do you feel the ground shaking?!”
Dawson had a confused look on his face until he felt a sudden tremor that made his eyes widen out of their sockets.
“Oh, dear…”
There was a sudden shout that echoed from upstairs, and Mrs. Judson couldn’t help but to snicker as she handed Dawson a pair of earplugs from the pocket of her apron.
“Don’t worry…Ratigan has to go out very soon, so they won’t be at it for too much longer!”
Dawson just went right back to sleep as soon as he put the earplugs in.
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Meanwhile, back upstairs…
It had started with Basil on top of Ratigan, giving him kisses. Some were long and some were short, but there was no shortage of tongue play involved. Being smaller, Basil was easily overpowered, and he stifled a laugh when his husband repeatedly groped his backside. Neither of them wanted to let the other go, but the dopamine from the kisses started to become scarce, and it was time to take things further.
“I hope there’s still some olive oil in here…I would hate to have to go downstairs right now,” Ratigan mumbled.
“Since when have you been embarrassed to fuck me, Padraic?” Basil snickered.
“I’m not! I just don’t feel like going downstairs…”
“Don’t want Mrs. Judson to tease you again?”
Ratigan ignored him as he found the half-empty bottle. But he didn’t prepare himself right away.
“What’s wrong?”
“I wonder, old chap…which position should I use to get the most noise out of you?”
It took a moment for Basil to fully understand. When he did, a devilish grin spread across his face.
“Well, then I guess you’ll just have to try them all out…won’t you, Padraic?”
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
They started off with missionary first; Basil lay sprawled out on the bed with his legs spread as far as they could go. Ratigan couldn’t oil himself up fast enough and pinned his husband’s arms above his head. He shoved his cock into Basil’s hole with ease, thrusting without mercy until the bed began to shake. Basil cheated the villain out of hearing him moan by kissing him instead.
“Mm-mm-mm-mm…!”
“Hmm…don’t think you’re getting out of this by cheating me, old boy…I won’t stop until the neighbours can hear us!”
The mouse looked him dead in the eyes as he pulled away.
“Bring it on then, you vile sewer rat…”
Ratigan growled at him deep in his throat.
“On your knees, DETECTIVE…”
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Basil had to hold on for dear life as Ratigan pounded him from behind with enough force to make the bed shake even harder. But he was still trying to contain his moaning, so he would receive a smack to his backside once in a while to get him to cry out.
“I know you can be louder than that, precious…”
He gave a hard pull to Basil’s tail right at the base where it was the most sensitive and kept thrusting at the same time.
“Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah…!”
“Louder, precious…” Ratigan grumbled as he proceeded to bite into Basil’s neck and shoulder.
“HAAAA—NGHHAAAHHH!”
Basil orgasmed first, spilling his essence all over the bedsheets. Ratigan filled him up well, even long after it was overflowing like an eruption.
“Bloody hell, Padraic…you know just how to get exactly what you want from me, don’t you?”
Ratigan leaned his head right next to Basil’s on his shoulder.
“And don’t you ever forget it, darling…”
They greedily indulged in more kisses before switching their positions again.
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Back downstairs...
Dawson removed his ear plugs long enough to hear what Mrs. Judson had to say.
“Be a dear and do tell Ratigan that he’ll be needing to get ready for the Queen’s helpers very soon!”
The older mouse detective blushed.
“But what if he’s…?”
“You’ll be fine. Just make sure to knock before you enter!”
Much to Dawson’s embarrassment, he listened closely as he approached the bedroom upstairs, second door to the left. It was the only one where Basil could be heard screaming profanities over the sound of the bed thumping.
“FUCK ME, PADRAIC…!”
Dawson raised a fist to knock even though it was the last thing he wanted to do right now; but if he didn’t, the whole moving process would be late. So he knocked twice very gently, hoping that neither of them would be too annoyed to answer him.
The thumping noises stopped for a minute before a raspy voice responded.
“Yes? Who is it?”
“Uh, gentlemen? It’s me, Dawson…I just wanted to let you know that it’s after eleven and the moving process will be occurring very soon!”
“Thank you, Dawson…we’ll be down shortly!”
On the other side of the door…
Basil had switched his position for a third time and made himself comfortable on top of Ratigan’s lap. But he didn’t even hear the gentle knocking at the door until Ratigan spoke up, which left him positively mortified.
“I can’t believe Dawson heard me like this!”
Ratigan just snickered.
“Keep bouncing on my lap and I’ll make you forget about it, baby…”
They were even less quiet during this position; Basil must’ve shouted the word “fuck” at least a hundred times as Ratigan held his hips in place.
“B-Bloody hell, Padraic…I-I love you…I love you!”
A third orgasm ripped through them like a tornado, sending a shiver up and down Basil’s spine. He swore there was no one else in the entire world who could make him experience these kinds of senses, who could fuck him until he didn’t know a damn thing, who could force him to make noises that he didn’t know existed... who could always remind him of much he was loved every time they both went to bed. Ratigan might've been a violent criminal to the outside world, but wrapped up in Basil’s arms, he was reduced to a big furry teddy bear that Basil buried his face into after he came.
“I really do love you, Padraic…I wasn’t just saying it in the moment!”
Ratigan chuckled.
“You don’t think I know that, precious? I can feel it every single time we do this together… but we have to get ready for the movers now, darling!
Basil pouted but reluctantly began to move.
“And if you behave when my lackeys get here…I’ll be sure to show my appreciation for it later on, old boy!”
He whispered that last part into Basil’s left ear, making him shiver with excitement.
“I-I p-promise…”
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
It took almost the entire day — from noon until 6:00 PM — but at long last, the last piece of Ratigan’s temporary home had been relocated to number 221b on Baker Street: a delicate china set that was carefully placed inside of a cabinet with glass to protect it. Whatever Ratigan didn’t want was promptly donated or simply given away.
The most difficult part was Basil trying to keep his snide comments to himself once Fidget, Bill, Phil, and Frank finally showed up to their doorstep. They didn’t have much with them, only a few pairs of clothing and some stolen jewels from Ratigan’s hideout. But at least Mrs. Judson was making them pay their rent like everyone else.
In return, she cooked a massive dinner for the whole house — a smorgasbord of fried fish, cheese crumpets, smoked sausages, and a big pot of vegetable stew. The gang members couldn’t remember the last time they had eaten so well.
“This is lovely, ma’am,” said Bill. “Thank you!”
The others remembered their manners and also said thank you.
“Don’t thank me yet, boys; you haven’t seen what I made for dessert!”
Dessert was a pile of warm pancakes with strawberry jam to go with them. Ratigan asked her if he and Basil could take a few upstairs with them. Mrs. Judson didn’t mind as long as they remembered to return the silverware. Fidget asked his boss why he wasn’t going to stay.
“Trust me, Fidget…you don’t want the answer to that question!” Ratigan told him as Basil ran away, blushing.
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Once they were in their bedroom, Ratigan immediately put the two plates of pancakes on their bed and sat down next to them. Then he beckoned the mouse to come closer.
“I missed you so much… I thought we’d never be alone with you again today!”
“Oh, come now, Padraic…it’s only been a few hours!”
“That’s one hour too many, old boy…”
Basil rolled his eyes but accidentally let out a moan when Ratigan kissed his neck in the spot that drove him crazy.
“Also… I think I want you to be my dessert instead, Basil.”
“Are you kidding me?? With your lackeys right downstairs?! Ah-haaagghhnnn…”
Ratigan bit down harder on Basil’s neck and groped his backside.
“There’s at least one position that we haven’t done in a while, you know…”
“W-What…?”
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Basil held onto his husband for dear life as Ratigan railed him against the wall, on the edge of the bed with his legs up, flipped over onto his stomach, and even in his coat closet. They were so wrapped up in each other they had no idea that Fidget and the others had secretly gathered outside their door to see what the thumping noises were all about. All four of them covered their mouths when it finally dawned on them what was happening, but Fidget was snickering as he’d known the whole time.
“Sounds like the Professor’s havin’ a good time!” whispered Phil.
“See? I told ya he was kinky!” said Fidget.
“What position do ya think they’re in?” Bill asked quietly.
“Maybe doggy style?” snickered Frank.
“No, it’s definitely 69,” said Phil.
They struggled to keep from laughing too loudly.
“Hold on, hold on! What if it’s all the ‘jobs’?” said Bill.
Fidget nearly doubled over trying to keep from howling with laughter.
“Stop that, you’re gonna get us killed!” scolded Frank but he was still laughing anyway.
“Actually, it’s called a blowjob…”
Another voice startled them out of nowhere. It was Basil, standing there with a smirk of his own in his maroon dressing gown loosely tied together just to cover himself up. Ratigan stood by with an impatient frown on his face.
“Get back downstairs and help Mrs. Judson clean up your mess, RIGHT NOW!”
Fidget, Bill, Phil, and Frank didn’t need to be told twice. The sound of their footsteps quickly faded away the further they got from the door.
“Nosey little bastards…” mumbled Ratigan.
Basil giggled in spite of the rude interruption. Ratigan whipped himself around as he closed the door back up.
“Now what could be so funny, precious?”
He began to approach the mouse like a lion stalking a deer in the woods.
“OH, NO, NO, NO! AAAHHH!!!”
Ratigan proceeded to pounce on his husband, flooding his stomach with a wave of tickles to his stomach.
“NO, PLEASE! HAHA, HAVE MERCY!”
Then he switched to tickling Basil with his nose instead, earning him a soft moan that didn’t go unnoticed. He lifted his head to find the detective blushing. An evil grin spread across the rat’s face.
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Mrs. Judson was surprised when Fidget and the others volunteered to help her clean up, but when she asked them why, they were too embarrassed to answer her directly. So she coaxed Dawson into coming upstairs with her to find out. That’s when they heard Basil’s moaning on the other side.
“Is it mating season already?” said Dawson quietly.
“No, these two are just randy! And I think they’ll be at it for a while, too…”
“Are your neighbours going to be this nosey all the time, Basil?”
The two older mice scurried away back to the living space to finish cleaning up but not without giggling to themselves. Ratigan rolled his eyes in complete irascibility.
“Well, we might as well give them a good show! Fuck me, Padraic…”
“Oh, with pleasure, precious…”
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
The house shook with an unexpected strength as Basil was pounded senselessly into the mattress. Anyone else would’ve been dead from the ignominy of having the whole world know that they were getting their back blown out by their spouse. But every time one of them cried out “I love you” before their climax happened, how could Basil possibly care about who did or didn’t hear them? He knew if Ratigan had his way, he would broadcast their screams of pleasure all over London if he could… the screams that were currently making the walls of their bedroom tremble.
“Ha-ah-ah-ah-ah…g-getting c-close…!”
“Go ahead, precious…I’m right here…”
The climax was swift and messy, coming out in multiple white spurts all over the bed sheets and pillows. Ratigan pulled out and gave his dick a few strokes to fully empty himself on Basil’s cheeks. Then they both collapsed, sweaty and completely drained of energy. The only movement either of them could do was to turn and look at each other.
“We never…did eat our pancakes…”
Ratigan reached over to grab the plate. Miraculously, they were still warm to the touch, so the couple scarfed them down quickly with the jam.
“Mmm, delicious…my housekeeper certainly can cook, eh?”
Ratigan kissed his face.
“It’s what keeps me from eating you instead, darling! Now let’s go clean ourselves up…”
“Oh, shut up…” mumbled Basil.