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The thing about Namjoon’s roommate is that sometimes he’s a cat.
As a child, Namjoon had heard the stories of people who shifted, but had always assumed it to be fantasy. In some of the tales, the shifters were victims of an awful curse, punished for misdeeds. In others, they were witches in command of some powerful magic, using their shifting to move amongst us undetected.
In truth, Min Yoongi’s ability to shift into a fluffy, slate grey cat was just a reality of his mother's bloodline. A trait that had been more common amongst his ancestors before going dormant, only to re-emerge in his adolescence to his mother’s great surprise. Yes, there were probably more of his kind. No, he didn’t know who they were as most kept it close to the chest.
Of course, Namjoon had known none of this when Yoongi responded to his ad seeking a roommate. He was quiet, but friendly. Neat and enjoyed cooking, and most importantly at the time, he had a steady income working as a radio DJ and could split rent.
Namjoon had hoped for a polite acquaintance who split the bills when he put out the ad. He hadn’t expected to become fast friends.
Tonight, he’s enjoying a lazy evening lounging on the couch in his favorite worn grey sweats, book in hand. Yoongi is curled up beside him, rumbling away softly.
He’d never admit it- Yoongi would be mortified, for starters- but these quiet nights with Yoongi have become his favorite, more than any bustling, social evening out in Seoul. He loves the easy, companionable silence on these nights when Yoongi is comfortable enough to shift into his cat form and simply laze about, allowing and even welcoming Namjoon’s touch.
For Namjoon, who had been nursing a crush since he’d first met Yoongi, gone on his deep voice, and pink cheeks, and unexpectedly sincere and sentimental nature, this would have to be enough.
Idly, he sinks his fingers into Yoongi’s fur and scritches, purrs growing louder at the attention. Namjoon smiles, thinking about the night he’d first discovered Yoongi in this form.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Namjoon had been working late, and then had made his way to a cafe that kept late hours to do some writing after. By the time he had finally made it back to the apartment, he was exhausted and expected that Yoongi would’ve long returned from the radio station and retired to bed.
Toeing off his shoes, he’d padded through the apartment and was surprised to find that the television was on, Netflix’s “Are you still watching?” prompt dim and seemingly long forgotten.
It’s not like Yoongi-hyung to leave the tv running, he’d thought, searching for the remote first on the coffee table and then on the couch.
Rummaging between the couch cushions, he was nearly tired enough to miss the cat curled up and asleep on the leftmost cushion. When he finally noticed, he’d startled, and then found himself filled with agitation.
While it may be impossible to be angry at such a soft, fluffy creature- Namjoon is no monster, after all- it was uncharacteristically inconsiderate of Yoongi to bring a pet home without discussing it first. Not even so much as a text as a heads up!
“Hyung?” he’d called towards Yoongi’s bedroom door. Late or not, they needed to discuss this.
“Hyung?” louder this time, with a gentle knock at Yoongi’s door. “Hyung, are you home?”
No response.
Surely, Yoongi hadn’t dropped off a cat at home without so much as a word of warning and then left it unattended. No collar, no food bowls, no litter box that Namjoon could see.
What is going on?
With a sigh, Namjoon knocked one last time before tentatively opening the bedroom door. Bed made, lights off, no Yoongi.
He opened KakaoTalk and fired off a quick text to Yoongi before returning to the living room, the cat still curled in a ball, purring softly.
Namjoon tentatively sat down on the couch beside it, attempting to make nice with what was apparently his new fluffy roommate. He expected the cat to wake up as the couch sunk under his weight. What he did not expect was for it to sleepily blink open grey eyes and then bristle, bolting across the couch, leaping over Namjoon’s lap, and sprinting directly into Yoongi’s bedroom via the door Namjoon had neglected to close.
Oh shit.
Yoongi’s door had been closed when Namjoon got home. He probably meant to keep the cat from his bedroom. Even if Yoongi had been inconsiderate, bringing a pet home without asking, Namjoon couldn’t just leave it in his room unattended.
Carefully, quietly he tiptoed into Yoongi’s room so as not to further spook the creature, and was promptly greeted with the sight of a very naked Yoongi.
“Namjoon-ah! Get out!” he yelped, grasping for the duvet and wrapping it hastily around himself.
Namjoon, who could have easily backed out of the doorway, was frozen on the spot, cheeks flaming and heart racing.
“Where’s the cat?!” he blurted stupidly, far too loud, staring at his feet as if he didn’t already have the image of his roommate, naked and pink and so so pretty seared into his memory.
A moment of charged silence passed, Namjoon willing the heat in his cheeks to subside.
“Give me a moment, Namjoon-ah,” Yoongi finally sighed, voice much softer than before. “Just… shit. Give me a moment and then we’ll talk, okay?”
And that was how Namjoon had learned the truth. Yoongi had bluntly explained, calm and direct and as if there was no world in which Namjoon would doubt him. He’d even offered to keep to his room when shifted or even move out, which Namjoon had immediately shut down..
“Hyung, that’s stupid and you know it! You’re still you.”
“And you don’t mind if I’m…?” he held his hands above his head in an approximation of ears. “While I’m out here?”
Cute, Namjoon’s brain helpfully supplied. He shook the thought out of his head, steadying himself.
“I’m not going to lie and say I’m not surprised by all of this. But hyung, you deserve to be comfortable in your own home. And besides…”
Yoongi tipped his head, waiting as Namjoon trailed off awkwardly. He was momentarily struck by the feline-like nature of the gesture.
If Namjoon wasn’t so caught off guard by the evening’s events, he might have managed some manner of brain to mouth filter. But as things were, his mouth treacherously latched on to that line of thinking.
“You’re very cute! Am I allowed to pet you, hyung? You looked so soft!”
That startled a loud laugh out of Yoongi. Surely Namjoon’s face was going to burst into flame at any moment.
“Sure, Namjoon-ah. You can pet me.”
Even in the dim light, Namjoon could see his cheeks were dusted pink.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
So that’s how it had all started.
Certain evenings, when Yoongi was especially at ease, he would emerge from his room as a little grey cat. Namjoon would hesitate at first, feeling a bit awkward even with his hyung’s permission, but he always gave in eventually, sinking his fingers into his downy soft fur while reading a book or scrolling his phone or watching a movie.
And for a while, that had been it. Just Yoongi cuddled up beside him, clearly enjoying the pets they wouldn’t talk about later as he lulled off to sleep.
The next day, Yoongi would emerge in his human form and they’d cook breakfast (well, Yoongi would cook and Namjoon would stay carefully out of the way), play video games, run errands and just generally go about their days as roommates and friends.
Tonight, Namjoon was quickly discovering, was different from their typical quiet evenings together. Instead of quickly dozing under Namjoon’s ministrations, Yoongi seems restless, even playful. Namjoon scratchs under his jaw, and Yoongi rolls right onto his back in a sprawl, downy white fluff of his belly on display.
“This had better not be a trap,” Namjoon huffs, eyeing Yoongi’s paws. Claws thankfully retracted, toe beans pink like his little nose.
Cute. In every form, Yoongi was so damn cute. It was a truth Namjoon tried, and failed, not to think about.
Yoongi bats playfully at Namjoon’s arm in response, eyes wide like saucers.
“Oh fine,” Namjoon sighs, sinking his fingers into the fur of Yoongi’s belly.
Under Namjoon’s touch, Yoongi starts purring once more, a deep rumble Namjoon hadn’t heard from him before, faster and more excitable than his normal lazy purring.
“What’s gotten into you, hyung?” Namjoon says, voice light with amusement, if not also a bit confused.
This was a lot, that’s all. He couldn’t separate the knowledge that Yoongi in this form, while clearly catlike in his urges, also maintained his very human thoughts and awareness, understanding Namjoon’s words.
Yoongi in his human form was friendly and thoughtful, unexpectedly sentimental in ways that made Namjoon’s heart ache in the best way. But he definitely was not one for the casual skinship of their other friends.
But here he was choosing to seek out more intimate touch, accepting belly pets and nuzzling his head back against Namjoon’s thigh.
“You’re something else today,” Namjoon says fondly, scooping Yoongi up into his lap before he can overthink it. “C’mon, get comfortable, hyung. I’m trying to read.”
Yoongi curls up in his lap and seems to actually settle in. Namjoon waits a moment, half-expecting Yoongi to decide that he had crossed a line and pad off to his room, but to Namjoon’s pleasant surprise, he stays put.
“Good boy,” Namjoon murmurs thoughtlessly, then goes tense, face heating.
Smooth Namjoon, what’s wrong with you?
But Yoongi’s only reaction is to turn a circle in his lap and settle back in more comfortably, head nestled resting against Namjoon’s stomach.
Namjoon takes a deep, steadying breath and picks up his book in one hand, resuming stroking Yoongi’s back with the other.
Despite being hyper-aware that this is Yoongi in his lap, Namjoon finds that he can’t help but slowly relax. Rain is pattering softly against the window, a summer downpour. Namjoon has a good book in hand and is cuddling with his favorite, currently feline person.
He gets lost in his novel a bit, only ceasing his petting long enough to turn a page every so often. He finishes one chapter, starts another. Yoongi is still rumbling contentedly in a way that Namjoon suspects means he’s asleep.
But then it starts. A big, back-arched stretch, another turn about in Namjoon’s lap. And then the kneading. Soft, insistent paws pressing into Namjoon’s sweatpant clad thighs.
“Hyung?” Namjoon laughs, voice laced with a bit of panic.
Clearly Yoongi is giving over to his feline side a bit more than usual this evening. That’s all. Namjoon doesn’t want him to be embarrassed later. Even if… Well, even if it feels really nice, if Namjoon’s being honest with himself.
Yoongi makes a curious chirp of a noise, eyes once again like saucers, and then starts kneading again more insistently.
Namjoon has read the same sentence of his book several times without processing a word. He finally gives up, dog-earring the page and setting it beside him.
In an almost comical reversal of the night all those months ago, when he’d first met Yoongi in this form, Namjoon tips Yoongi gently out of his lap and shamelessly bolts.
“I’m really tired!” he blurts, already fleeing for his bedroom.
Namjoon sits on his bed, sorting through his thoughts. In the morning, they’ll talk about it. Whatever this is. Because he wants to understand what this is to Yoongi. Despite his initial fight or flight response, he doesn’t want to take the easy way out and pretend it hadn’t happened.
The bedroom door creaks open, but he doesn’t see the human Yoongi he expects enter. Instead, the same soft grey kitten who’d snuggled in his lap making increasingly enthusiastic biscuits pads into the room and hops up onto Namjoon’s bed.
“Hi,” Namjoon greets softly as Yoongi approaches.
Yoongi hops back onto Namjoon’s lap with little hesitation, kneading a few more times before sitting up tall and looking at Namjoon, eyes calculating.
“We gonna talk about this, hyung? You’re acting so strange!”
Yoongi tilts his head again, quite owlish for a cat. Namjoon would find it hopelessly endearing if he weren’t so nervous. And then with a pop, the grey kitten is gone, and Namjoon finds himself face to face with a lap full of naked Min Yoongi.
“Aish! I didn’t think this through!” he says, scrambling to grab the blanket and quickly realizing that it’s pinned beneath the both of them.
Namjoon doesn’t know where to look. This isn’t the first time he’s seen Yoongi naked after abandoning his cat form. But the last time was with a respectable distance across a dark room, not straddling Namjoon’s legs point blank in his own bed.
He’s too close to all that skin. To the hectic pink flush coloring his chest, his cheeks, the tips of his ears as he stares stubbornly at Namjoon and refuses to shrink back.
He darts his tongue across his lips, and Namjoon tracks the movement. Somehow there’s enough blood not rushing directly to his traitorous dick for his face to somehow get impossibly hotter.
“You wanted to talk?” Yoongi asks quietly, a hint of a smile in his voice.
“Do you want to get dressed first?”
“Do you want me to get dressed?” Yoongi’s definitely smirking now.
“Hyung, don’t make me answer that. As if you don’t already know.”
“Hm,” Yoongi sighs, but he doesn’t sound upset. “Maybe start with your questions then, and I’ll answer.”
Namjoon nods, finally opening his eyes. Yoongi is still close, sitting astride his lap and regarding him carefully.
“Why were you being so playful with me before?”
“Because I wanted to be,” Yoongi responds simply, as if it’s easy. Maybe it is. “Because I thought you’d enjoy it too but clearly weren’t going to make the first move.”
“I did, hyung. I really did. I just didn’t think…”
“Didn’t think what?”
“We never really touch, aside from a bit of petting sometimes…”
Yoongi smiles, showing his teeth. He’s reminded all at once that cats are predators, though Namjoon’s not sure he minds being prey all that much in this moment.
“We’re touching right now. Is this okay?”
Namjoon nods, “I already said, surely you must know by now…”
“I had some idea,” Yoongi brushes a thumb along Namjoon’s jaw, leaning close. “Namjoon-ah, if I’m reading this wrong, you’ve gotta let me know.”
“You’re not,” Namjoon whispers.
And with that, Yoongi cups his jaw with both hands and kisses him.
Namjoon reaches out but quickly aborts the gesture, overwhelmed by all that skin and feeling awkwardly overdressed in little more than sweatpants and a worn tee.
But Yoongi just laughs into the kiss, nipping at Namjoon’s bottom lip. “You can touch me, Namjoon-ah. I thought we’d established that I like it.”
Emboldened by those words, Namjoon grabs Yoongi by the waist, hauling him forward and deepening the kiss.
Yoongi rocks against him, slow and dirty, grasping at the hem of Namjoon’s shirt and tugging it off.
“C’mon, these too,” Yoongi’s trails a finger along his waistband, eyeing where Namjoon’s sweatpants are tented obviously, embarrassingly.
“Stupid things drive me crazy,” he mutters to himself, tugging them down and off when Namjoon lifts his hips.
“Oh, is that what got into you tonight?”
“Shut up, you know exactly what you look like lounging around in these. You do it on purpose.”
“I really didn’t,” Namjoon insists. “I will now though-”
He cuts himself off with a sharp gasp, Yoongi choosing that moment to tug him out of his boxers and give a long, slow stroke.
“This is probably going to be embarrassingly fast,” Namjoon admits, shivery and keyed up just from Yoongi’s dry hand around him.
“S’okay. We can always do it again,” he says it so easily, like he hasn’t just upended Namjoon’s whole world. His best friend and roommate is naked in his lap, stroking him languidly, insisting that they’ll do this again.
“Fuck,” Namjoon gasps, sliding his mouth again Yoongi’s and rocking into his grip. “You too, c’mon. I want to feel us both.”
Yoongi nods, letting go of Namjoon for long enough to press his fingers insistently against his lips. Namjoon whines and doesn’t even have it in himself to be embarrassed about it as Yoongi’s fingers slip inside his mouth.
Then Yoongi’s hand is back and gripping them both, and he’s rocking his hips against Namjoon as a counterpoint to the stroke of his hand, eased by Namjoon’s spit.
Heat pools in Namjoon’s body, and he finds himself hurtling towards his orgasm.
“Hyung, please. I’m gonna-”
“Fuck, ‘Joon-ah. Me too. It’s okay, me too.”
It only takes a few more strokes to send Namjoon over the edge, spilling into Yoongi’s hand and all over his cock. He keeps stroking them both, even as Namjoon shivers with oversensitivity, and then Yoongi is coming too with a soft gasp before slumping against Namjoon.
“That was…” Yoongi trails off with a happy sigh.
“Mmmhm,” Namjoon agrees, idly rubbing circles on Yoongi’s back.
“We should’ve done that sooner.”
“We can do it again,” he says, echoing Yoongi’s earlier words.
As the post-orgasm glow fades, Namjoon is left feeling not just sated, but sticky and gross. He tells Yoongi as much, leaving to retrieve a wet cloth to wipe them both clean. It’ll have to do for now, too tired for a shower.
“Namjoon-ah?” Yoongi asks, sounding tentative for the first time all evening.
“Hm?”
“Can I…”
“Of course you can sleep here. Hyung, you don’t even have to ask.”
Yoongi pauses, and Namjoon doesn’t miss the fondness in his expression. “And if I want to shift first and then stay?”
Namjoon’s heart clenches.
“Okay, how are you so cute? Of course you can shift and sleep here.” Namjoon fluffs the spare pillow, gesturing beside him. “Come on, I’ll even pet you until you fall asleep.”
Yoongi only hesitates for a moment, shifting with a pop and then curling up against Namjoon’s side contentedly. Namjoon could really get used to this.
He strokes softly along Yoongi’s fur and quickly dozes off to sleep to the sound of soft, rumbly purring.