10kg jeju mandarins

by quickfoxlazydog

Summary:

Cat-collector Jeno finds a kitten that's only as big as one and a half handfuls abandoned in a mandarin box. Jeno invites one hundred and a half handfuls of trouble into his apartment.

Here we go again.

Renjun places his empty can of black coffee on the concrete curb outside of a cafe that’s closed up shop for the night.

He’s had a long, harrowing day. This morning, he’d been curled up peacefully in bed, basking in the sunlight as he was wont to do. By evening, he had been chased out of his home by one of his (former) roommates, running down the street at full speed away from the place without so much as glancing over his shoulder.

It always went like this. Renjun was a passable roommate, but it was hard to find someone who really gelled with his way of living. Nobody ever wanted to hear his explanations when things started to break down—they just flew off the handle, and all Renjun could do was make a run for it.

Life is hard. Everything is changing all the time, and Renjun is just trying to keep up. He wonders how many more lives he has left in him to deal with going through this yet again. At least one, he thinks. He’s not giving up just yet.

Next to the can on the curb is a sizable cardboard box, which he carefully selected from a great pile of boxes behind the local supermarket. There’s an illustration of a juicy orange with a bright green leaf on it. Jeju Mandarins, Island Grown, 10kg.

Using his teeth to pop off the cap from the black marker he’d purloined earlier from a nearby convenience store, he carefully writes out a message across the box.

PLEASE ADOPT ME.

It’s always a little humiliating to do this, but it has a one hundred percent effectiveness rate. And besides, it’s not like Renjun has any other options.

He glances both ways down the street. It’s quiet; no signs of life except the shadows moving behind the curtains in the houses across the way.

Then he sits in the box, his knees folded awkwardly over the edge. He’s a small guy, but it’s a tight fit. He folds his arms over his chest, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

Relax. Stop picking at your nails.

It takes a certain frame of mind to accomplish what he needs to accomplish, especially when he’s frazzled and vaguely concerned that someone might still be looking for him after he lifted all those snacks and supplies. Renjun tries to encourage his heart rate to stay at this nice, even tempo.

Relax, and do what you do best. Inhale.

He listens carefully, trying to hear past the wind and distant din of traffic. Bike wheels. This might be his chance.

Exhale.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Jeno’s bicycle tires rattle over the uneven sidewalk, and he opens his mouth and goes ‘ahhh’ so he can listen to his voice warble as he bounces along. Just for fun.

He enjoys a late-night cycle because no one is around to hear him make silly noises or watch him circle the same tree until his head spins. The world feels emptier and less restrictive. Cycling around is how he spreads his wings.

Jeno turns the corner onto a quiet, narrow street with nothing but the sound of the night breeze blowing against his ears as he pedals. Then something cuts through it—a soft sound, but one Jeno’s ears are well-attuned to.

Mew.

Rattling to a gradual halt, Jeno whips his head around in every direction in search of the source of the meow. It’s so small, so weak. It must be a baby.

Hopping off of his bike, he walks it down the middle of the road. The meowing continues, and Jeno follows it. Right to a cardboard box with messy writing in permanent marker on the side.

Oh no. He’d been secretly hoping that it was coming from the windowsill of a nice warm house. No such luck. After propping his bike against a power box, he holds his breath and crouches down, peering inside.

Pacing around is a tiny gray kitten. It’s a shorthair with a few cute little white patches around its belly and limbs. There’s one dark marking on the top of one of its front paws. It’s definitely a runt, but not a newborn or anything like that—it’s steady and alert as it walks around its nest made out of used clothing, but Jeno would be surprised if it was any older than five or six weeks.

Jeno’s heart sinks. At least there’s only one, and at least whoever abandoned it had enough fondness for it to put something warm in the box for the kitten to cuddle up to if it got cold. But still. It’s such an awful thing to do. There are better, safer places to leave a helpless little creature like this.

Cautious, he sticks his hand inside the box. The kitten doesn’t cower or bristle as he brings his index finger to the space between its ears, gently stroking it. No signs of mites or any injuries. Its fur is just a little messy and pushed in all directions. Jeno gently smoothes it out.

“Did someone really just leave you here? A little cutie like you?”

The kitten circles around his hand, its tail ticklish against his knuckles.

It’s very sweet. And socialized enough to know how to suck up to people. Jeno sighs from a very profound part of his chest.

He really can’t afford to take in another cat—Seol, Nal, and Bongsik all keep him very busy, and he’s pretty sure having three of them is already a violation of his lease agreement.

But there’s no one else around, and what if something happened to it? The box is big, but if it got out and ran into one of the busy streets nearby… Jeno would never be able to forgive himself.

“Are you friendly? Would you be okay around other kitties?” Jeno asks quietly, lightly drumming his fingers along the kitten’s narrow spine.

It doesn’t answer, of course, but it sits there politely, looking up into the sky. Its pupils are so round and black in the darkness of the evening, and Jeno can see the moon and the few stars bright enough to break through the city lights reflected back in them.

He swallows a lump in his throat.

“Okay, little buddy. I can’t leave you. I’m going to take you home with me, and you can stay until I can take you to the vet and make sure everything is okay, and then we’ll find you somewhere to stay. How does that sound?”

The kitten turns its big eyes on Jeno and mewls. Good enough. Jeno takes this as consent to scoop it up gently in his hands, hoping it's not a squirmer, or worse, a runner. But it waits patiently in the crook of his arm as he unzips his sling bag.

“Sorry about this. But I don’t want you to hop out while we’re riding, so I’m gonna zip you in. Don’t be scared.”

Jeno feels a bit guilty about putting it in an enclosed space even though it seems completely content to be moved around. Carefully, he holds the kitten over the open zipper, its delicate hind legs hanging from his grip as he eases it into the bottom of his bag. As promised, he seals him in.

It meows once, just a playful chitter. Jeno isn’t quite mush-brained enough to think he can talk to cats, but it sounds to him like he’s being given permission to get going.

This was not the carefree evening bike ride Jeno had been hoping for. Still, he’s happy to be the one to have his routine broken up by this little kitty. At least he has everything a stray cat could need at home already arranged for the small herd living in his one bedroom.

He pedals straight home, only ever stopping to take a peek in the bag and make sure his new friend is getting adequate oxygen. And also to sneak some light strokes over its furry ears. It sure is a cute cat.

After parking in the usual place and taking the stairs two at a time to his floor, Jeno quietly lets himself in.

“Anyone awake?” he mutters as he pulls off his shoes. Only Seol comes to greet him—the other cats must be sleeping. Jeno kneels down and pats her on the butt. She enjoys it, but she can clearly smell their houseguest, bringing her pink nose closer to Jeno’s bag.

“Be nice, okay?” The cats are generally a placid bunch and quite used to living as a crowd, but he’d never brought in a kitten before. He hopes at their mature ages that they don’t act out about it.

Jeno opens the bag a bit, just barely letting the kitten peek out at Seol at first. He waits a moment, and when he’s fairly confident that no one is going to freak out about the encounter, he unzips it a bit more. It’s so small that it slinks out of the tiny opening like it’s made out of liquid.

The kitten looks up at Seol once it sets its paws on the flooring, and Seol looks back. Jeno watches like an intrepid safari-goer observing the local wildlife, ready to intervene.

But there’s no fight to break up, not even a warning hiss. The kitten mews as Seol comes in for a good sniff. They’re communicating, although Jeno can’t make heads or tails of it.

After some hesitant sniffing, Seol just walks back to Jeno’s room, seemingly unbothered by the whole affair. And for a cat, to be simply unbothered by something was often

Huh. That seemed almost too easy. Even sweet Bongsik had been more than a little ticked off when Jeno brought Seol and Nal from the shelter.

Well, if Seol was okay, then the rest would probably be fine, too. Bongsik is an old lady now, not prone to getting rustled by much of anything at all short of the vacuum cleaner. And Nal, well… He was more likely to be scared of the kitten than the other way around.

“Good job…” Jeno praises everyone involved and sets to work setting up for his visitor.

The kitten seems shy about wandering freely about the residence, sticking close to Jeno’s feet as he moves around—which makes him nervous, so he quickly puts on the pink, fluffy slippers with cat ears on them gifted to him by a friend. This way, he can drag his feet across the floor lest he accidentally step on it. Occasionally, it bumps against his ankles, with Jeno apologizing each time and kindly encouraging it to walk beside him and not in front of him.

He sets out a small dish of wet food, opening the packet slowly and quietly so as not to alert the horde. The kitten eats it well, and Jeno is relieved to see that it doesn’t seem to be suffering any serious illness or stress despite being taken to a strange place.

He carries the kitten around to show it where it can find water, including the heavy glasses of water Jeno sets in the sills of his windows where Bongsik likes to enjoy an afternoon drink. He shows it the fancy self-cleaning litter box that his parents gifted him. He even shows it where it can find some toys. The full tour of the place, even if it’s not all that much to look at.

“I should have taken your box with you so you could have your own space without other cats’ smells all over it… I’m really sorry.”

Jeno doesn’t have a replacement mandarin box, but he has a shoe box from a recent sneaker investment and a freshly laundered button-up flannel to cozy up to. He scoops the kitten into this makeshift bed and sets it on his desk inside his room.

This way, he thinks, I’ll hear it if anyone wakes up and starts fighting. Or if it needs something. He smiles down at his unexpected guest, watching it knead his shirt with its paws, no doubt punching holes into it with tiny claws.

Every kitten is cute. Jeno has never met one that would make him think otherwise. Even the hairless, alien-looking breeds look particularly sweet at this stage. But this one is extra cute. It’s always looking up at the sky or Jeno or ceiling or out the window and it’s so cooperative that Jeno can’t imagine why he found it abandoned alone on a curb.

“Good night, little guy.” He reaches down and tickles it under the chin. “I gotta sleep ‘cause I gotta work in the morning, but I hope you know where everything is.”

Donghyuck teases him for not just talking to his cats but trying to explain things and ask them questions, because he thinks it’s ridiculous. You’re supposed to just tell them how cute they are, stupid, Donghyuck says. Not bore them with your internal monologue.

He just doesn’t understand—as much as Jeno likes talking with Donghyuck and his other friends, it’s nice to talk to someone who can’t tease him when he says something that stops a conversation cold or asks a stupid question. Instead of having to play along with Donghyuck’s whims and keep up with his nonstop wit, he can safely have one-way conversations with weird creatures that have almond-sized brains.

Donghyuck would definitely have something witty to say if Jeno ever told him this.

He gives the kitten one last pat on the head before he goes to shower and change into his pajamas, still shuffling across the floor as he makes his way to bed. As usual, he has to contort and slot himself between the bodies of the cats sleeping in their favorite spots on his bed to find a comfortable way to sleep.

In the morning, Jeno feeds everyone and then quickly sucks down a chocolate protein shake in lieu of a real breakfast. He calls the vet, and the receptionist lets him know that they’ll see him for a check-up in the evening.

He has to hurry or he’ll be late to open the cycle shop, but it doesn’t matter how much he’s lagging behind—he still stops to say goodbye to all of the cats.

And to reassure the kitten, of course. It seems to have fared the evening quite well, and it was happy to join in on breakfast. But still, Jeno found himself a little worried about leaving it alone with three strange cats.

“I’ll be back after my shift, okay, kitty?” Jeno needs to find something to call it other than just kitty. Maybe he’ll think about it while he’s behind the counter at work waiting for someone to show up with a bicycle or bicycle part-related inquiry instead of messing around on his phone like he usually does. “If anyone bothers you, just find a nice place to hide, and I’ll deal with them when I get home.”

There. Hopefully everyone is convinced to keep up the good behavior.

He grabs his bag and sweeps out a stray tuft of gray kitten fur from the inside before strapping it back on and heading for the door.

“Bongsik, you’re in charge of the apartment. See you guys soon.”

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Finally.

Renjun squirms out of the welcoming pile of other cats surrounding him on his rescuer’s bed when he squeezes his eyes shut and—poof. The first thing he does in all of his full human glory is sneeze, then reach for his head.

There’s definitely a big pair of soft kitten ears attached to it. This is an unfortunate side effect of his poor control over whatever affliction it is he suffers from. It was especially prone to happening after being stuck in kitten mode for so long—he’d found that switching every 6 hours or so was the perfect rhythm, but it wasn’t a very realistic one for getting by in the world. He didn’t exactly have the science behind it all figured out. He just tried to navigate things as they happened.

One of the worst parts of being able to transform from a kitten to a fully adult man in his 20s was that clothes did not come with the process. That is to say, he is presently sprawled out completely nude across a strange man’s bed. If Renjun lived like a normal man, this would probably be very fun and exciting for him. He does not, however, live like a normal man.

All of these are major inconveniences, but Renjun will let them roll off his back today—he’s on a mission to completely case the place, a duty so important that it warrants his total concentration. If Renjun was going to stay here for any length of time, he wanted a full and thorough profile of the person he’d ended up with. He’d made too many hasty choices and been through far too much to end up losing his housing arrangement after a mere two weeks again. Renjun wants some peace and stability for once.

The guy who picked him up didn’t take his clothes from the box even though Renjun really hoped he would, so he’s forced to begin his stealth operation by slinking across the room to his closet and searching for something suitable.

He feels very lucky to find out that this is an athleisure man. This makes getting dressed a lot easier than it was at some of his previous lodging situations. Renjun selects a big red hoodie and pulls it over his head, ears flattening until he pokes his head through the neck hole and they spring back up again.

The bathroom is usually the most interesting place to start. Renjun dashes on tiptoe across the hall to take a look. You can learn a lot about how someone lives based on their bathroom. It’s a quiet sanctuary where humans expect their business to stay private, after all.

Renjun throws open the medicine cabinet to start. Pain killers, muscle balms, gummy multivitamins, lip balm, disposable razors. It’s all pretty normal stuff. There’s a paper pouch full of pills in blister packs. He gasps as he pulls one of the packs out, only to read the print on the back that indicates that it’s nothing more than prescription-strength allergy medicine. He thought he’d found a dark secret, but instead, it was just proof that his host had respiratory problems.

As Renjun continues his sweep across every section of the apartment, he fails to find anything scandalous about his savior at all.

His name is futuristic sounding: Jeno Lee. Renjun learned this from the bank book inside his desk drawer. He’s younger than Renjun by a whole month. The human version of Renjun, anyway. His finances aren’t incredible, but they don’t throw up any red flags.

Renjun even clicks around his laptop at his desk for a while. This guy has a braindead password: hello. Not that he needs the security, because doesn’t even look at anything that strange on the Internet. His search history consists mostly of YouTube videos about League of Legends, and some suggestive fan art of girls that Renjun thinks might also be from League of Legends. The first sign that he’s actually a man and not just a dorky robot. He left himself logged in to Coupang, though, so Renjun goes ahead and puts some sour Skittles in his cart just to see if he notices them the next time he makes an order.

After all of his intensive research, there’s almost nothing negative to say about Jeno. It’s not that Renjun is disappointed about this; he just can’t believe his luck. After all this time, he’d landed a handsome man living out a calm and modest life along with his cats. His entire place is perfectly curated for Renjun’s needs as a kitten, and if his work is steady and there really are no other family members to contend with, maybe Renjun would be able to fit in a comfortable amount of human time, too.

If it wasn’t so clear that his cats absolutely adored him, and if he wasn’t highly confident in his investigation abilities, Renjun would be suspicious. Normally he ends up running out on a potential housing situation or two before settling down.

This is perfect. His tail is gone right now, but he still has the phantom sensation of it sticking up and vibrating with excitement.

Renjun can let his guard down and have a nice relaxing bath and one of Jeno’s packets of Chapaghetti. Cat baths and cat food are nice when he’s a cat, but as a human, he likes to enjoy the same luxuries as his hosts.

Renjun goes as far as eating the Chapagetti in the bath, filling up one cheek with noodles and letting himself get lightheaded from the steam. He should probably be more concerned about his upcoming vet appointment this evening, but why ruin a good thing? He could always pop back into human mode and take off running if anyone starts talking about neutering.

He barely finishes cleaning up his dishes in the kitchen when his big gray ears prick. It’s about eight hours since Jeno left, and he can hear someone taking the stairs two at a time. He dashes back to Jeno’s bed—there’s not enough time to return the hoodie to its hanger—and closes his eyes.

Relax, he tells himself. And a moment later, he emerges out from the neck hole, a gray kitten no bigger than a handful and a half.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

“Hi everybody.” Jeno calls as he steps in the entryway and starts the difficult work of removing his shoes without untying them. This time, all of the cats come to greet him at once, flooding out of their various designated favorite places. Seol and Bongsik come for pets, and Nal watches from a few feet away. The kitten comes too, looking all drowsy and sweet as it hops up on his kitchen counter. He probably shouldn’t let it do that, but one problem at a time.

“Nobody caused you any trouble, did they?” Jeno looks at the other cats suspiciously as he crosses the living room to get a good look at the kitten. It doesn’t look like there’s anything to worry about. It’s just sitting there taking a long look at him.

“Well, that’s good. Um, I came up with something to call you while I was at work. How about Byeolbit?”

He rubs his thumb against the kitten’s little cheek. Yeah. Byeolbit really suited those big, curious eyes it always keeps turned upward.

“You’re okay with that? Good, I like it too.” He gently lifts the kitten up into his arms. “We’re going to go on a little trip to the kitty doctor. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave you outside alone or anything. The carrier is big for you, but I’ll carry you nice and steady.”

He feels compelled to reassure it every step of the way, even though it hasn’t let out a single cry of confusion as they walk down the streets. Jeno’s never seen such a nicely behaved cat before. Especially a kitten—they were usually a bit more rambunctious and troublesome.

Their trip to the vet is uneventful, except Jeno sees the first sign of less-than-cooperative behavior out of Byeolbit when he tries to make a dash for the door while they discuss the big snip—the timing was perfect enough to make the vet laugh. He’s a healthy young kitten right now, so the vet says there’s no reason not to stick with the standard procedure of doing it around five months of age.

Byeolbit’s a he, as it turns out. Jeno isn’t sure if he was expecting that, but it balances out the group.

He returns to his place with a healthy kitten that’ll be due for some shots in a couple of weeks. He’s relieved that everything seems okay, but this means he can no longer avoid the next hurdle: there is no way Jeno can live with four cats in a one-bedroom apartment.

Sure, it might be fine now that Byeolbit is just a tiny little thing, but eventually, he’s going to grow. And frankly, Jeno is already prone to hurting himself—he shouldn’t be inviting more tripping hazards into the home.

He sits on his bed with the kitten in tow, but not before putting away a hoodie he’d apparently abandoned on his bedding earlier. That happens all the time: Jeno enjoys doing the laundry up until the point where he has to put it all away.

Looking at his phone, he contemplates his kitten problem.

Well. There’s one person he could ask. One person he knows would cherish a cute little furball like Byeolbit.

Jeno scrolls through his recent messages and starts up FaceTime. The video is an indistinct blur when it connects.

“Hello?”

He can hear a voice on the other end, but it sounds distracted and rather far away.

“Donghyuckie? Are you there? Do you want a kitten?”

Donghyuck must be on the move. He’s murmuring very close to the receiver. “Jeno-ya. I’m literally going to miss the next train.”

“Nobody told you to answer if you’re busy.”

“What are you doing? Are we still on for shopping this weekend? Also, what do you mean ‘do I want a kitten?’”

All of a sudden, Donghyuck’s face appears on the screen, his mouth open just a bit to show his front teeth. He’s actually interested in what Jeno has to say. As much as Jeno would like to revel in this moment, he resists for the sake of sorting out a place for his little friend.

“I found a kitten.” Jeno angles his phone camera down from his face to Byeolbit cradled in his arm. He meows sweetly, as if on cue.

Donghyuck lets out an ear-splitting cooing noise and Jeno almost fumbles his phone. A woman passing behind Donghyuck out wherever he is looks startled.

“Who is this little friend? Where did you get another one?”

“I’m calling him Byeolbit.” There’s another loud semi-shriek from the other end of the phone. “I was out cycling and someone left him on the curb in a box. He’s really sweet and healthy, so I guess someone just couldn’t keep him…”

“I hope something horrible happens to them,” says Donghyuck. Jeno wouldn’t go that far. “Spin him around for me. Please.” He’s already starting to beg in a put-on cutesy voice. Jeno slowly turns the kitten around in his hand, giving as close to a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view as he can.

Donghyuck looks like he might start crying, which is genuinely startling—he pretends to cry all the time, but Jeno has only seen him cry for real at weddings and graduations. “Oh my god. He’s so perfect. But you know my building doesn’t allow pets. Did you just call me to make me feel miserable?”

Jeno sighs and gives Donghyuck a look through the camera. “You renewed your lease? I thought you were thinking about moving. Don’t make me sound like a bad person.”

“You’re a terrible person.” Jeno knew he was going to say something like that, but it still makes him frown. “Don’t pout, Jeno-ya. I wish I could. I really do. I would jump onto the train tracks for him.” He moves the camera to show the edge of the platform over his shoulder.

Jeno shakes his head and laughs.

“But I can’t. Can I come see him though? Can we take him for a walk? What if I buy him a little coat?” An announcement about an incoming train drowns out his incessant questions. “That’s me. Please, you have to send me some videos immediately. Let me kiss him goodbye.”

This is how their friendship works: Jeno doesn’t really want to indulge Donghyuck, but he always does anyway. He lifts Byeolbit up to the camera again, smiling at the sight of his big confused eyes looking at Donghyuck on the phone. Byeolbit puts his paw on the screen as Donghyuck attempts to shower him in long-distance kisses, giving Jeno a close-up view of his wet lips along with smooching sounds.

“Ugh… That’s gross. You’re gross.”

“Send pics! Now!” Donghyuck waves and ends the call.

Jeno sets Byeolbit down in his lap. They look at each other, and it feels meaningful, even if Jeno has no idea what is possibly going on inside of Byeolbit’s little head. What are we gonna do now?

“Well. He was my only hope. How sad is that?” They were out of options already, because Jeno’s list of close friends is short, and his list of friends who could take in a pet unexpectedly is even shorter.

Fine. If Donghyuck is out of the picture, Jeno will just have to keep him for slightly longer than he was anticipating. He’ll get him the rest of his vaccines and anything else he might need, and he’ll be on the lookout for a suitable owner.

He rubs Byeolbit between the ears, chuckling when he flops over and tries to nibble the tip of his finger and kick him with his hind legs. Aw.

He’s too sweet of a boy, too cute and easy to get along with to just hand him over to some strange schmuck off of the internet. Jeno needs to find him a home that will send him updates and pictures regularly so he can check in on him.

Jeno realizes this sounds very bad for him when he’s only been around the little guy for less than one full rotation of the earth. He can’t have four adult cats. But while he’s a kitten, he can watch over him.

Right. Just while he’s a kitten.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Renjun is getting very comfortable with his living situation. It’s been a month or so, and he’s gotten Jeno’s patterns worked out. It’s too bad he doesn’t often go out on weekends, but otherwise, it’s a manageable rhythm.

Today, Renjun is spending his afternoon as a human, lounging on Jeno’s bed, eating sour Skittles (he really did order them, what a sucker) and watching movies on Jeno’s laptop, using Jeno’s Netflix account, wearing Jeno’s clothes. He is living the life, and he owes it all to Jeno. It feels so good he might just pop open one of Jeno’s cans of beer to celebrate.

He’s truly hit the jackpot when it comes to unwitting roommates. It’s a relief, especially considering his last attempt. He’d been staying in a dangerous situation before Jeno picked him up—he had been taken in by a newlywed couple who honestly didn’t seem to like each other very much. It was bad from the start. The more people involved, the more routines Renjun had to learn. And if they were unstable? Forget it.

Renjun was constantly on edge, worried that the husband would get exiled from the bedroom when he was just trying to enjoy a late-night snack and stretch his human legs.

Sure enough, it had all gone to hell when the wife came home from the office in the middle of the day, shouting into the phone in the throes of yet another marital spat. Renjun had been sitting in the kitchen enjoying some fried chicken he’d ordered courtesy of his hosts. After what felt like an eternity of awkward staring, she shrieked like Renjun had never heard anyone shriek before and took hold of a broom from the entryway. Renjun only received a few vicious swats as he scrambled out the window and tumbled out from the second floor to the ground outside, taking off running barefoot down the residential streets.

He was pretty sure his mysterious food orders had started to make the wife suspect she was being cheated on, anyway. He felt a bit bad about that, and about startling her so badly, but there wasn’t much he could do about either problem. This is just how he lives. It’s hard to hold down a paying, human job when he’s prone to showing up with a tail under his work apron or just straight up turning into a tiny animal after one too many stressful encounters.

That couple called him Satang. As messy as they were, he wonders if they miss Satang. It must be hard to find a stranger eating food in your place and then have your pet kitten go missing on the same day. Just one of the many reasons he avoids homes with kids.

Byeolbit is a pretty good name, though. Renjun doesn’t mind being Byeolbit at all.

Renjun checks the time in the corner of the screen. He has about twenty minutes until Jeno gets back home from work. There won’t be any beer after all; it’s time to start putting things away. Sometimes he forgets to give himself enough time for this part, even though he really shouldn’t be getting sloppy. He hurriedly returns the laptop to the desk, hides his unfinished Skittles under the bed, and peels off his clothes, returning them to the drawers he got them from.

The transformation process is weird. He can do it almost at will, but even he doesn’t know how that works. He just closes his eyes. Then it happens in an instant. There’s no weird in-between states, except when the tail or the ears stick around when he’s human. It’s more like a lightswitch that flicks on and off.

Off. He’s Renjun. On. He’s Byeolbit, and he’s ready to greet his owner, bouncing across the floor to stand by the entryway.

Jeno sticks his head in and greets all of the cats just like he does every single day after work. Seol and Bongsik swarm his legs, and Nal waits his turn. Everybody gets a pet and a short conversation in the order they show up. Well, that’s not strictly true. Renjun cuts in line in front of Nal all of the time. But today he feels like being good.

“Byeolbit! You’re usually bugging me for a snack right away.”

That’s not true. Renjun sulks, trying to attack and kill Jeno’s shoelaces while he stoops down to untie them. Take it back.

“Jeez, you’re crazy today. I’ll get the laser pointer later and burn off some of that energy.”

That sounds like a good time. Any glimmer of light that can be chased must be chased. Part of the grift, and part of being Byeolbit is playing kitten around his chosen host. In Jeno’s case, this turns out to be a lot of fun. After watching the other cats walk all over his keyboard in the middle of a tense League match without receiving any punishment beyond some very half-hearted scolding, Renjun quickly realized he had carte blanche to do whatever he wanted to entertain himself.

As a kitten, he very much has the kitten urge to play around. He loves to hop around on all of Jeno’s stuff and try to bite his eyelashes when he naps. Attacking his socks while he’s trying to concentrate on a drama never gets old. But the real classic is trying to scale him like a mountain.

He latches on to Jeno’s pant leg with his claws and hoists himself up.

“Ow, please… You’ve got little needles for claws. Ow ow ow.”

Jeno whimpers and makes all kinds of sad noises, but he doesn’t try to stop him at all. Renjun pokes a couple dozen openings into his denim (and his leg) until he manages to crawl into the front pocket of his hoodie and curls up in there. A warm hand reaches in and gently strokes him under the chin. His whole body shakes as he purrs.

He’s gotten many pets from many people, but he likes Jeno’s a lot. He’s a clumsy guy with big hands, but he uses them gently and intentionally. He knows how to appeal to Renjun’s kitten biology.

He gets scooped out of his warm nesting spot and cradled in Jeno’s hand. Jeno handles him like he’s even more delicate than he actually is.

“Did you know it’s been exactly a month since I found you?”

Really? Renjun tilts his head to one side, whiskers pricking forward.

“It’s kind of weird, I thought you’d be bigger than this by now… Like, a lot bigger. Maybe I’m not giving you enough vitamins. Anyway, I got you a little treat to celebrate. Well, everyone else can have some too, but it’s mostly for you.”

Jeno reaches into his trusty sling bag and produces a carton of milk. Lactose-free cat milk. He really is a cat guy.

“It’s milk! Milk that won’t make you sick later.”

Renjun gently bops the carton with his paw and mews, because he’s not sure how else to express his appreciation. Or his curiosity. He has received varying levels of pampering, but no one has ever given him milk made especially for cats before.

“Exciting, huh? And I’ll give you some of the Churu with the shrimp, ‘cause I know it’s your favorite.” After a moment spent nuzzling up against Jeno’s fingers, Renjun pulls back and makes a leap for his shoulder. He sticks the landing, because of course he does. He really does love Churu straight from the tube even though it’s a huge mess—so much that he’d even sampled a little with his human tongue once while Jeno was asleep. (It turned out it was best to just eat cat food as a cat.)

“I’m glad I found you. And I think everybody else is, too.”

It’s true. The other cats are very kind to him. Renjun learned from hanging around strays that most cats registered him as a harmless kitten even when he was human—there must have been something about the way he smelled. Bongsik is kind of motherly, occasionally giving him an intense grooming session while he’s a kitten, and watching over him while he’s human. Seol likes to nap with him no matter what form he’s in, and Renjun would occasionally sneak her a bit of human food. It was only fair to share the wealth. Nal is skittish and submissive, but they’d played a few times by batting Nal’s favorite mouse with a bell inside back and forth.

Jeno carries him off to the kitchen and doesn’t even shoo him off the counter as he divvies up the cat milk between everyone’s designated special treat dish—because of course Jeno is the type of owner to have a dish for all occasions. Renjun thinks he might have more dishes for his cats than himself.

Renjun starts lapping away at it before Jeno can even get it down off the counter. Whether it’s because it’s a celebration of a month together or just because Jeno is the biggest pushover he’s ever met, he’s allowed to splash it all over the place.

The excitement of greeting Jeno and the tummy full of milk is too much for him. Kittens get tired easily. Renjun is dozing off while standing up next to his dish.

He jolts awake when his head hits something—not the hard counter, but the soft palm of Jeno’s hand extended to protect him.

“Careful.” Jeno laughs. He has this low laugh that sounds like it’s stuck in his chest. It’s the kind of laugh that would make Renjun laugh too, if he could. “Let’s get you somewhere comfortable if you’re tired.”

Somewhere comfortable turns out to be resting in the same sling bag Jeno always wears close to his chest. Between short, broken-up naps, Renjun watches him play League. Cat eyes see a little differently, but he can see that Jeno is the type who always types ‘GLHF’ in chat when a game starts.

Renjun wonders if Jeno is this soft and goofy outside of the apartment. Is he kind to strangers on the street? When he goes out to eat with his friends, does he let them have the last dumpling left on the plate?

Renjun is supposed to be wary. Keeping his guard up is essential to getting by without trouble. But he likes Jeno. Not just as a tool to get fed and housed in a cruel world fuelled by a labor economy that doesn’t have any flexibility for kitten shapeshifters. But as a person.

He’s seen all kinds of things on the street and inside people’s homes. People don’t put on a nice act when they don’t think there are any judging outsiders there to see it. They cheat, they fight, they say cruel things to the people closest to them. Jeno is a good person. Renjun listens to him greet the old lady in the unit next to him in the hallways every weekend. He eavesdrops when he calls his mom and dad, his friends, and the cellphone company. Even when he’s arguing with the friend named Donghyuck, he still has a bit of sweetness.

Renjun wishes he had someone he could tell about it. Wouldn’t that be nice? It sounds kind of romantic when he thinks about saying it as a human. I met this guy on the street outside of a cafe. He lives a nice and quiet life. He buys me everything I want and he doesn’t ask for much in return. Instead of kicking me out, he curls around me when I sleep in the middle of his bed.

Renjun is going to try to make this place last for himself. He’s going to really try.

 

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Jeno holds his head in his hands behind the counter at the cycle shop. It’s a Friday evening and he should be closing up right now. But he’s got something on his mind.

I think I’m going crazy.

He scrolls down further on his phone. He was paying off his credit card bill, and something seemed off. Just a bit out of the ordinary. Now he’s scrolling his food delivery history, and he apparently ordered a rather heroic amount of food from a malatang restaurant two weeks ago. The thing is, Jeno doesn’t even eat malatang. He can’t eat it, because it messes with his stomach.

Jeno can admit he isn’t always the brightest bulb—Donghyuck always tells him that even though he’s book smart, he has no short-term memory or common sense. So maybe he really did just forget. But the thing is, he’s been forgetting a lot lately.

Clothes disappearing, then showing up again in places he doesn’t remember putting them. Things appearing in his Coupang orders that he doesn’t remember buying. Bottles of soju in his recycling bin that he doesn’t remember drinking. Food he swore he had suddenly vanishing from the fridge.

It’s never anything serious like forgetting to turn the burners off, but it is really odd. It’s not like he’s working long hours or not getting enough sleep.

Jeno could just be overthinking things. Maybe his brain is just trying to help him out by removing unnecessary information.

There’s only one person he can ask who will give him the rational explanation he needs not to worry about it.

He finishes paying off his credit card balance and flips over the sign on the door of the shop.

“I think I’m going crazy.”

“Well,” Donghyuck shrugs as he flicks his nail against the raw sugar packet in his hands. “I always knew this day was going to come.” He tears it open and dumps it in the cappuccino Jeno bought for him.

They’re at a cafe for their regular Saturday lunch of fancy brioche sandwiches and coffee. The point of these meetings used to be to bike along the river, but Donghyuck had suddenly developed an intractable elbow pain that meant they needed to pick a more relaxing activity. He used to pretend that he couldn’t carry things because of his horrific injury, offloading his bag onto Jeno, but he eventually forgot all about keeping up the facade.

The truth he wouldn’t come out and admit was that he was exhausted by trying to keep up with Jeno burning up the asphalt every time they went for a ride, and Jeno knew it.

“No, you don’t understand…” Jeno looks at his reflection in the darkness of his iced americano and reminds himself not to stick his lips out like that every time Donghyuck teases him.

“What don’t I understand, Jeno-ya?” Donghyuck smiles, looking cheeky as ever as he watches Jeno through his clear glasses frames. “You can tell me.” He slides his hand across the table. “I’m here for you.”

Jeno knows better. But he reaches out and squeezes his hand anyway, intentionally closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see Donghyuck gloating about it. It doesn’t work; he’s still gloating when he opens them. Even if he tries to hide it by putting on a concerned face.

“I feel like I’m having some kind of brain problem.”

Donghyuck stifles a laugh.

“Fine, I won’t tell you. We can just go back to talking about how you’re on the way back to Iron with the way you’ve been playing League lately. Don’t call me when you need to get carried.”

Jeno shrinks in his chair and tries to pull his hand away, but Donghyuck won’t let him.

“Come on, go easy on me. You know I have the elbow thing. I wasn’t laughing at you. Someone tripped on the other side of the cafe.” Jeno looks over his shoulder. “No, dummy, you missed it. Tell me more, you poor thing.”

“It’s just weird. Like, I keep finding things and I don’t know how they got there. Or there’s even things missing.”

Donghyuck seems to be fighting back the urge to say something.

“I know how it sounds…” Jeno scratches his head. “I like snacks, but I don’t remember going through my cupboards that quickly. I bought a bunch of salt breads from the convenience store and even though I only remember eating one or two, they were gone in just a few days.”

“Oh, that’s ridiculous.” Donghyuck scoffs. “Everybody eats without thinking sometimes. Maybe you just had too much after-work beer and lost track of yourself.”

“Well… Maybe. But how about this one? My Netflix account… There’s all this stuff in my history I didn’t watch.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Your password is probably something braindead, knowing you. Some guy in Russia with a login list is just enjoying a free ride.”

Jeno nods slowly. Donghyuck’s totally right. He’s overreacting. There are a million reasons this could be happening that aren’t Jeno’s fault.

“Then I hope you can explain this to me, because it’s the weirdest.”

Donghyuck looks perplexed. Jeno continues.

“The other day I forgot my wallet, right? That was pretty dumb by itself, but when I went back home on my lunch break to go get it, there was a t-shirt and a pair of sweats on the floor. In the middle of the kitchen. How did I do that?”

Donghyuck looks perplexed.

“They were laid out on the floor, Donghyuck. Not in a big pile, but arranged so it looked like someone was laying down there. The weirdest thing is…” Jeno lowers his voice to a whisper. “Byeolbit was standing right next to them. I know cats, okay? He was all on edge and glowy-eyed. Like he’d seen a ghost.”

Donghyuck pats the back of Jeno’s hand before pulling it away. He takes a long, contemplative sip of his drink. “Either you’re making stuff up or it is a ghost.”

“Ghosts aren’t real.”

“Then you’re sleepwalking and sleepeating. And I guess, getting undressed in your sleep, too.” Donghyuck mouths the next part: Pervert.

Jeno feels offended for a second. But on second thought…

Sleepwalking?

“Huh…” That could be it. “Maybe you’re onto something.”

Donghyuck is a smart guy, and that’s a smart guess.

“Go to the doctor.” Donghyuck says sternly. Jeno’s eyes snap straight ahead to his friend, shocked to hear an obvious worry in his voice. But he goes right back to his nonchalant self. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you sleepwalk into traffic, Jeno-ya.”

Jeno hadn’t even considered that. A doctor wouldn’t be the worst idea. But Jeno is a little bit scared of the doctor.

Maybe he’ll just give it a little more time, first.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Renjun silently slips through the door, making his way back into Jeno’s apartment under the cover of night. He takes every step into the entryway carefully—which is a little hard to do when Jeno’s slip-ons are much too big for him. At least it’s easy to get them off.

He knows where every creaky spot in the flooring is so that he can easily weave through the living room and crowd himself into Jeno’s dinky little couch. Sneaking out was still a scary thing to do, even though he was confident he’d taken all the precautions.

He scrolls through videos on Jeno’s phone with one of his earbuds in—every night, Jeno tucks the phone under his pillow, making it very easy for Renjun to sneak it away from him. The passcode is 0000. Jeno doesn’t know this, but they share everything in shifts now. Even the house keys.

Tonight, he snuck away to go eat at the first place that still had lights on. A casual bar with chicken and pajeon. It had been ages since Renjun last found himself in a spot that wasn’t the streets where he had enough of a foothold and resources to sustain being both a kitten and a human. Even if he’d been too nervous to talk to anyone at this particular place, it was all exciting enough for him to have maybe one too many drinks.

He hopes that some dried squid from the convenience store will sober him up a little. It doesn’t.

His head is still spinning as he decides to stop staring at a screen and prepare for the morning. Everything goes back where it belongs, or at the very least, where it’s not obviously out of place.

Renjun slips into the bedroom and gingerly wedges the phone back under Jeno’s pillow. He’s out like a light. Jeno can be a bit of a light sleeper, but any time he goes to the gym in the morning and for a cycle in the evening, he can be reasonably assured that there’s no danger of him waking up.

Jeno looks silly like this. He sleeps in all kinds of strange, contorted poses, but tonight he’s laid out flat on his back with his arms up near his head. His usual expression of slightly unsure what is happening is soft and squishy-looking.

It’s a very stupid impulse, but Renjun holds onto his headboard and leans in close—Jeno smells like all of his clothing. It’s stronger and different than he smells with his cat nose, but as a human… Renjun sniffs a little. It’s still good.

Renjun leans back and smiles to himself. You big dummy. You have no idea I’m right here, do you? I use all your stuff every day. Entertained by his thoughts, Renjun gently pokes Jeno in the cheek with his index finger. It squishes, accentuating his permanent expression that’s something like twenty percent of a dopey pout. His skin is soft under his touch.

A thought pops into Renjun’s head.

Would you like me as a person? As a guy? Do you think we’d be friends?

Renjun takes another stupid risk. Instead of getting undressed, putting Jeno’s clothes away, and turning back into Byeolbit, he puts his knee on Jeno’s mattress. It bows under his weight. Jeno stays asleep.

Spending so much time in the body of an animal that is designed for balance and coordination has taught Renjun some things, even when he doesn’t have a tail to help. He makes every move measured as he lays his body right down beside Jeno.

They’re so close to each other now. His heart is threatening to race. It’s the closest he’s ever gotten to Jeno as Renjun.

He softly drapes an arm over Jeno’s chest, ready to jump off of the covers and roll under the bed frame at the first sign of movement. Jeno is still. Renjun pulls himself closer. And closer, and closer.

He holds Jeno tight. As tight as he can without pushing too hard into him in any one spot.

It’s a little bit thrilling.

There’s something about being in contact with another person while Renjun is, well, a person. It’s hard getting to know so much about the complexity of Jeno’s life without having any way to reach out to him on the same level. Sure, Jeno knows his favorite toys and snacks as a kitten, but he has no idea that Renjun thinks and holds aspirations beyond 16-hour naps for the rest of his life. That Renjun loves cocktails and knows how to have a good conversation when he’s comfortable.

Jeno murmurs and shifts a little in his arms. Renjun stiffens up like a board. He’s on edge.

Can’t move too soon, can’t move too late. Make your choice quickly.

Jeno grumbles groggily in the dark. “Huh? Who left the door open?” Jeno is so tired and dazed it seems he can’t even pull his lids open more than a few millimeters. “Is this a dream?”

Renjun’s been holding his breath without realizing it—he lets it out slowly and evenly. “Yes.”

“Oh. Sorry to bother you… Don’t look now, Jeno Lee, he’s pretty. Hey, where’s your helmet…? Pedal lubricant… buffs your bike’s base defense… good for tower fights… Donghyuckie is feeding…” Jeno continues muttering, but it’s sleep-addled nonsense that dwindles into snoring. Thank god. He wasn’t really awake.

Renjun carefully untangles himself from Jeno’s body. He can’t risk all that he has just because he’s greedy enough to want just a little more.

He crawls off the bed and onto the floor, wiggling into the space under the bed frame.

Fuck returning Jeno’s clothes to the closet tonight. Renjun will sleep just like this, under Jeno. He doesn’t want to change back right now. He wants to be himself, even if it has to be in the dark, on the floor, among the dust particles.

When Jeno wakes up and yelps because he walked into his nightstand or his doorframe or just tripped over his own legs, then and only then, Renjun will go back to being Byeolbit.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Jeno is now more convinced than ever that he’s been struck down with a terrible sleep disorder. He’s been having recurring dreams now.

Every few nights, he meets a stranger. The stranger is a man, pretty in a way that fits perfectly in the irreality of a dream. He has warm eyes that always look up at Jeno whenever they meet. Sometimes Jeno can get himself to speak to him, sometimes he can’t. He can never remember what he asks. But he remembers what the man says. Yes.

There will be a pressure on his sternum that doesn’t let up until the stranger is totally out of view, until Jeno’s neck refuses to turn to look at him over his shoulder. A few times, they brushed their fingers shyly. He feels as if he can sense his body heat wrap around him sometimes. Strange, abstract stuff.

After Donghyuck blames Jeno for watching too many horror movies and tries to frame these happenings up as ‘some Paranormal Activity shit’, Jeno decides that he can’t keep having these conversations. He needs some down-to-earth, reasonable explanation.

Donghyuck is over to help him install a camera in his bedroom. They’re debriefing first. Jeno tries to catch him up on all of the dreams, the strange feelings at night. The fear he has that he might even be leaving the house at night when he wakes up so certain that his keys were in his jacket and not in his bag when he went to bed.

“I told you to go to a doctor.”

Jeno is still a little bit scared of the doctor.

“I just want to see if it’s really possible for myself…”

Also, there’s the fact that he doesn’t really want to believe it’s true. What if he has to put child locks on his window and set up motion sensors? It’s a lot of work. Jeno hopes it might all just go away instead.

“Well, if it’s not sleepwalking, it’s probably that thing you get from cats. Toxic-oplasmosis? You still pet strays all the time, don’t you? You need to get to the vet and get a parasite treatment.”

“They don’t have parasites!” Jeno gasps, appalled. “I would never let them get sick like that. I use hand sanitizer.”

“I meant they should check you, you dirty mutt.”

Donghyuck looks down at the floor. Byeolbit is standing there, looking about as pissed off as a cat can look. He hisses at Donghyuck. Jeno has never seen all of his little teeth bared like this before.

“Oh, Byeolbit!” Jeno gasps, taken aback. He usually loves it when Donghyuck visits. Donghyuck picks him up and kisses him and folds him up and rubs his face all over him, and he chirps and purrs happily. That’s how it’s supposed to go. “That’s not very nice.”

“Maybe I smell like dog. I had to walk my sister’s earlier.” Donghyuck grasps his chest, looking agonized. “Byeolbit, how could you? Haven’t I been the perfect gentleman to you?” He dramatically drops to his knee and reaches out for the kitten.

“Careful. I’ve never seen him this mad, and his teeth might be little, but if he gets you…”

Byeolbit tries to take a lightning quick swat, all of the claws extended out from his little pink and gray paw. Donghyuck barely yanks his hand back in time.

“He hates me!” Donghyuck stops trying to endear himself to Byeolbit and blubbers pathetically on the floor for a few moments before sitting up. He gives Jeno a serious look when his act is over. “Hey. How old is he?”

“Byeolbit?” Jeno sucks air in through his teeth. “Maybe three and a half months, now?”

“Why is he so small?”

“He’s just…”

“He looks exactly the same as he did the first time I met him. And he looks exactly the same as every picture you’ve sent since day one”

“What? Come on.”

“Seriously. He hasn’t grown at all.”

“No, come on. That can’t be true.” Jeno looks at Byeolbit. The sweet little gray kitten that he can scoop up in his palms. At least when he’s not having a tantrum. Oh god. A three-month-old kitten should be longer and heavier and just overall more substantial than that.

“Maybe he’s part Munchkin,” Donghyuck concludes.

Oh, right. That was a possibility. Jeno was starting to worry he might be the worst cat carer ever. Maybe he should ask the vet about supplements.

Donghyuck brushes some cat hair off of the knees of his jeans, or tries to, and grabs the instructions for the camera off of Jeno’s dresser. Byeolbit starts meowing as loud as he can and lunges at Donghyuck’s toes.

Jeno intervenes when both of them are yelling, pulling Byeolbit away. The kitten chomps on his hands like they were made out of Churu with shrimp. It hurts, very much—Jeno’s eyes tear up a little even if he keeps a stoic, zen demeanor for the sake of not further aggravating his feral instincts. With a bit of temporary swaddling in a towel, Jeno manages to seal him up in the bathroom.

It’s hard to listen to him meowing and crying to be let out while they set everything up, but he tries to steel his soft heart.

“This angle is so dumb.” Jeno laughs as he turns off the light. They’re supposed to test the night vision now.

“Shut up. You can see the bed, can’t you?”

“I can’t see anything, Donghyuck. The lights are off.” Donghyuck doesn’t laugh. Tough crowd. “We should have put it in the corner of the ceiling.”

“What for? We’re just trying to see if you get out of bed, not secure the whole apartment like it’s the fucking bank. The cats are already going to set it off a bunch at night.” Donghyuck isn’t having his complaints as he waves into the lens. “You see that?”

Soon after, there’s a recorded clip on the app. Donghyuck is waving at him from the footage on his phone now.

“There you are.”

“Okay, now I’m going to record a special one for you, so don’t watch it until later.” In the darkness, Donghyuck coos and makes smooching noises. Jeno doesn’t want any part of his gift footage. He blindly reaches out and tries to push him out of the camera’s sight, getting cursed out as Donghyuck stumbles into a wall.

It’s a little inelegant, but it will do. If nothing else, maybe he’d at least see what the cats get up to after sundown.

He apologizes to Byeolbit for locking him in the bathroom when Donghyuck leaves, but Byeolbit stands in the corner with his back to him. He doesn’t even come out for his wet food.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Lee Donghyuck, you stupid bastard. Renjun is curled up in the empty bathtub. He’d been in such a foul mood since Donghyuck showed up with his stupid camera that he couldn’t even bring himself to leave the room by the time Jeno opened up the door.

He stayed here until all of the lights were off, waiting until it was safe enough to return to the body capable of crying in frustration. His tail stuck with him, thumping irritatedly against the side of the tub. He hopes it doesn’t wake Jeno up. Or maybe he doesn’t care.

He should be in bed with Jeno instead of being here, but he can’t have that, because Jeno’s friend is too smart for his own good.

Renjun grits his teeth. This shouldn’t matter to him. This wasn’t the point of any of this. He was never supposed to get near Jeno as a human. He was meant to treat him as a kind benefactor while he was Byeolbit, so that he could use him as a stepping stone to do whatever he wanted in his fleeting hours as Renjun.

There’s a hot, angry tear streaming down his face, getting stuck against the side of his nose. It’s not about anything except how much he wishes he could talk to someone about how dumb his life is. He wonders if he could have prevented this somehow. He wonders if Donghyuck would feel bad if he knew just what he was depriving him of with his big idea.

Another tear blurs the vision in his other eye before it drips over his lower lashes. That one is for all of his own carelessness. This wouldn’t have happened if he wasn’t more prudent about replacing what he took. If he cleaned up after himself with perfect precision. If he had the restraint to stop doing objectively stupid things like sneaking out and snuggling up to Jeno every time he had the opportunity. He loves it here. Why does he keep risking it?

Renjun balls his fists together and sits up. It’s cold in here without any clothes on, and he’s prolonging his own misery. Renjun is a lost cause today. Now that he finally has stability, he doesn’t know where to go next. How is he supposed to come up with a new goal?

He sighs heavily. He tries to release the tension in his shoulders. It would be better to be in the body that someone else can take care of right now.

Poof. Back to cat mode. He feels a little physical discomfort going back already, but he hops out of the tub and makes his way to the bedroom. Everyone is resting, quiet.

The leap onto Jeno’s bed feels harder than usual, because he’s tired and weak from refusing his dinner. He makes it with the help of his claws to hoist him up.

Jeno is sleeping, so he walks up close and lets out a mew that comes out as a squeak. Jeno’s eyelids fly open—he’s highly attuned to meows.

“Oh? Good morning?” Jeno murmurs sleepily. “It’s you…” He stretches his back by squirming side to side, rubbing his face with his palms before turning his head to look at Renjun.

“Does this mean you forgive me?”

He picks Renjun up and drapes his warm body across his neck. Jeno likes to do that; it makes Renjun feel like he’s being worn like a luxurious scarf.

“You were being so bad. I guess you must not like Donghyuck’s sister’s dog.”

Renjun loves dogs. Even as a kitten, he’s befriended a number of strays. They remind him a little of Jeno—they’ll sleep with him in a warm spot when it’s raining, they’ll sit there and warmly watch as Renjun pushes in front of them to eat something served by a kind-hearted restaurant employee. A good dog offers a little protection without imposing itself. Renjun would probably like Donghyuck’s sister’s dog.

What he doesn’t like are cameras that interrupt the simple little human life he’s trying to live in six-hour increments.

“Good night, Byeolbit.” Jeno nuzzles his face against Renjun’s soft white underbelly and stifles a yawn. “Let’s have a nice, uneventful sleep…”

Fine. The fun and games are over. The bridge Renjun had managed to build between himself as a person and Jeno is gone. But Renjun can still spend time with him like this. It seems to make Jeno happy, even if he has no idea how badly Renjun would like to be able to respond to him when he comes home and talks to him about his day. He’s dozing off with a dopey smile on his face.

Renjun purrs against Jeno’s neck. It’s all he has for self-soothing, right now.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

“There’s nothing wrong with me.”

“I beg to differ.” Donghyuck rips Jeno’s phone right out of his hand, scrolling through the long list of videos from the past week. “There’s plenty wrong with you. But I guess sleepwalking isn’t one of those things.”

The pair of them have been going through brief clip after brief clip captured by the camera on Jeno’s couch. A good three-quarters of them are blurry cat sightings as they race across the field of view and trigger the motion sensor. Byeolbit takes more than a few swings and pounces at the camera, swatting at it like he wants to knock it off the desk, but it’s stuck down with adhesive. There are also several long videos of Nal grooming himself and then swishing his tail to and fro right in front of it, oblivious to the fact that he’s being watched.

The only times Jeno is the star is when he wakes up and checks his phone in a panic, only to go back to sleep. Or the odd time when he gets up and leaves the room… only to reliably return straight to bed within a minute or two.

Donghyuck is replaying the video of Jeno stubbing his toe and falling down from Wednesday morning with the volume maxed out. He’s cackling about it around the convenience store ice cream cone he helped himself to from Jeno’s fridge. It’s probably too late to snatch the phone back before he AirDrops it to himself. Whatever.

“Well, what about the other stuff? The clothes and the food and all that.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, I guess.” Jeno still misplaced stuff all of the time, but it felt more within the boundaries of his regular absentmindedness. No strange cases of clothing laid out like someone had been raptured straight out of his apartment.

“Case solved, then. You’re just an idiot.” Donghyuck shrugs and returns the phone. “And your cats are all very cute and you don’t deserve them. They should be mine.”

“I was gonna give you Byeolbit!”

“Well, circumstances didn’t allow, and now he hates me because he thinks I betrayed him to hang out with a dog and there’s no point in living anymore.”

That’s not even true. Byeolbit is cuddled up in Donghyuck’s lap right now. The kitten had apparently forgiven him for his betrayal and unfaithfulness. Jeno was a little relieved to see them on good terms again, honestly.

“Why are we talking about your made-up problems and not my real ones? Or are they not real after all?” Jeno sighs. Donghyuck holds out his half-eaten ice cream cone as a peace offering. Jeno takes a bite without thinking about how much it’s been licked. “I stopped having the dreams, too.”

“What dreams?” Donghyuck shakes his head, confused. “You never mentioned any dreams.”

“I didn’t tell you about the guy?”

“What guy, Jeno?” he asks, irritated. “I don’t know if anyone ever mentioned this to you, but a story generally has a beginning, a middle, and end. Keep it simple and don’t confuse yourself.”

“Oh. Well, I kept dreaming about the same guy showing up. Just anywhere, really, or nowhere, maybe. But we’d walk past each other and talk for a few seconds.” This is embarrassing to explain out loud, but whatever. Jeno is too tired to care after all of this.

“Talk about what?”

Jeno drags his feet along the flooring as he tries to recall. “I don’t remember. But I remember liking him. And touching him, maybe?”

Donghyuck sighs. “Is this even unusual for a dream? I thought this was going to be something important and symbolic. Sounds like you were just doing some unconscious wish-fulfillment. Is he hot?”

“It was just a weird coincidence that it happened when all that other stuff did, probably. But yeah, he was hot.” Byeolbit crawls out of Donghyuck’s lap and over to Jeno’s. He’s gently kneading his leg with his paws—he can be so cautious with his claws when he’s not overexcited. Jeno pets him on the back of his round little head.

“Well, good for you for getting out there and meeting people.” Donghyuck laughs. “Are you lonely? Should I stay over? Do you need a hug?”

“You don’t really want to stay over.” Jeno juts his lips out. He’d love a sleepover, but Donghyuck thinks that two men and four cats is a crowd.

“But I do want to give you a hug.”

“Get lost. It probably doesn’t mean anything. He’s gone now, anyway.”

“Very well done, Jeno-ya. You really handled that one like a pro. Maybe he should try coming to a real man’s dream.”

“You’re a jerk.”

Donghyuck holds up the ice cream to Jeno’s mouth. He bites into the cone with a loud crunch. “Look, I’m just glad you’re not doing anything dangerous in your sleep. I don’t know what that was all about, but maybe don’t work out so hard? Make sure you’re eating well? Good quality stuff, not just instant noodles and cola. Maybe take some fish oil capsules.”

Jeno blinks, taking a moment to accept the fact that he is being lectured with an unusual degree of sincerity. “Okay. I’ll be careful.” He smiles when Donghyuck pats him on the head, even though he means it condescendingly.

“Good boy— Ow.” Byeolbit is suddenly trying to chew on Donghyuck’s hand. “I’m sorry! I thought we were cool again!”

It’s funny to hear Donghyuck sound genuinely repentant. Jeno doesn’t stop Byeolbit from trying to nibble his fingertips off. That’s what he gets for never being able to just act nicely to Jeno until something serious happens.

“Good kitty. Get him again.”

Jeno scoops Byeolbit back into his lap. Even if he doesn’t know what Byeolbit’s problem is with Donghyuck today, he can’t say he doesn’t relate—some days he wishes he could bite him, too. At least he isn’t taking it out on Jeno this time.

Byeolbit rolls over onto his back, limp and trusting. Jeno strokes the back of his finger along the chin. He looks funny when he stretches out like this with all fours loose beside him—like he’s laying down like a little person. How could anyone not love him?

“Get a room…” Donghyuck grumbles, envious.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

The couch is a lonely place to have to sleep as a man, so Renjun has taken to spending more time out in the evening. He talks to strangers at bars now, even visits some of their apartments for after-parties.

Honestly, he’ll go anywhere there’s someone to talk to. He went home with a girl he met at the bar so he could paint her nails and listen to her cry about her ex. He accompanied a trio of plastered businessmen to karaoke when they mistook him for one of their juniors. He slept with a stupid college student who snuck him in because his parents were home.

He always returns home before Jeno has any idea.

If Jeno ever notices that his sweatshirts sometimes smell like rum and cigarettes, he doesn’t mention it on his calls with Donghyuck. He never seems to worry about whether he’s losing it anymore, either. He just checks his stupid camera recordings and never finds anything but goofy nocturnal cat behavior. Then he’ll do something like pick Renjun up, nuzzle him and say Byeolbit, are you having fun knocking all of my stuff off my dresser every night? And yes, it’s a blast.

There is something stupid and innocent about Jeno. He works hard and takes good care of his little family of cats, and he only puts himself first when someone tells him to do it. It’s what makes this whole thing so fucking frustrating.

If Renjun could talk to him, he wouldn’t ask questions—he already knows everything he needs to know. Instead, he’d grab him by the shoulders and tell him to do something selfish. Renjun would feel better about himself if he saw him live selfishly.

Usually, when Renjun gets brought into a home as a kitten, he overhears some debating on his continued presence if there’s more than one person living there. One party might say something like but cats are so fickle. Wouldn’t you rather a loyal pet, like a dog? Then the other will respond with some anecdote about a very nice cat that disproves their point.

Renjun as a person would be more inclined to agree, though. Cats are fickle. Some of them never develop any sense of loyalty. Some of them are manipulative.

He’s wobbly drunk on his two human legs as he stands in Jeno’s doorway, watching him sleep from a safe distance. He picks his nails as he thinks through his plan. He can’t help but notice that he looks like a big, dumb angel curled up in his bed.

And what’s Renjun supposed to say to that? Thank you so much, Master. You’re my guardian angel. I was vulnerable and scared until you came along. Oh, but I spent some of your paycheck on a nice pair of shoes that actually fits me, which I hide behind your couch. And if I’m still drunk from the night before, I watch you when you come out of the shower in nothing but a towel and literally cat-call you.

This isn’t working.

Renjun wants to meet Jeno, to put his needy fingers against the broad palms of his hands and tell him off for being naive and trusting. But he’s not someone worth meeting. He has nothing that isn’t Jeno’s. Nothing to offer at all.

Jeno deserves better than someone masquerading as a helpless creature slowly draining him from the shadows. He doesn’t deserve to pay for Renjun’s nights out, or to constantly have to pick up everything Renjun forgets to put away. He’s too sweet and kind. Next time, Renjun needs to pick someone who is more of a disorganized mess and possibly involved in something that flirts with the borders of legality so he doesn’t think about the morality of what he’s doing.

Every new home is a new lesson, Renjun supposes.

It feels drastic, but it’s actually a very simple and reasonable conclusion. Renjun is better off on his own. His trips into strange condos and apartments and houses and strange lives are best limited to brief weekends.

He’s going to grab that camera and do what he’s been wanting to do for weeks. Then he’s going to pack a bag.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

“You look like you’re going to be sick.” Donghyuck motions for Jeno to sit on the couch. “Just have some water and let me look at this. It doesn’t make sense.”

Donghyuck scrolls through the list of videos from last night and watches each of them in order yet again. Cat, cat, cat, Jeno rolling around in his sleep, cat. And then the last video.

“I mean, yeah, that’s a hand.” Donghyuck sighs.

That’s exactly right. It is a hand. A small hand on a skinny arm feeling around blindly in the dark for his camera on his desk, knuckles bumping on the lens before there’s the sound of the adhesive strip tearing. There’s a bit of incomprehensible motion, and then the camera goes flying off of Jeno’s balcony. Into the road. The video glitches to an abrupt end.

Donghyuck saw the device shattered into broken pieces across the asphalt when he biked over.

“How the fuck didn’t that wake you up?”

“I… I don’t know. Donghyuck.” Jeno realizes he should be more worried about the fact that someone was in his apartment last night. But he’s done more than a handful of headcounts, and it’s bothering him that there’s only three cats. Bonsik, Seol, and Nal.

“Huh?” Donghyuck follows with his eyes as Jeno stands up and shuffles over to the kitchen space, reaching for a box on top of the fridge.

Jeno rattles the box. He opens the lid. The cats come running.

“I thought maybe he was hiding. But…” If Nal wasn’t disturbed by whatever happened last night, there was no way Byeolbit would still be freaked out. Jeno slices open the top of a carefully selected plastic tube from the box—the Churu with shrimp.

It’s still just Bongsik, Seol, and Nal. His heart sinks.

“I think Byeolbit must have gotten out.”

“Oh, fuck,” Donghyuck murmurs. There’s nothing left for them to joke about together; the mood is low and grave. “Should we call the cops? What about your backpack and whatever else they took?”

Jeno bites his lip. “I think I’d feel better if we just went and looked for him.”

Donghyuck and Jeno take all of their best kitten-luring supplies. They walk together. They split up and tackle different blocks. Byeolbit never turns up.

Donghyuck is unusually quiet for the rest of the evening. And while he’s reluctant to go, he eventually agrees to head home and come back tomorrow to look again after Jeno reassures him that he’s fine.

He doesn’t feel all that fine. He’s unsettled, deeply. Bothered by all of the inexplicable happenings that have interrupted his steadfast routine.

Jeno scrolls through the countless pictures in his camera roll, looking for the clearest shot of all of Byeolbit’s unique markings. It confirms something that he knew was true, but wasn’t willing to admit—Byeolbit should be about four months old now. But nothing about him has changed since the day Jeno first picked him up off the curb.

As his printer fires off sheet after sheet, filling the space around his desk with the scent of hot paper and ink, Jeno flips through the video frame by frame. The hand has a unique marking, too.

Jeno thinks. Maybe Donghyuck is right as always and he should report this to some kind of authority. But all that’s missing is some clothes, a pair of shoes, and snacks. It’s all easily replaceable, save for his fucking cat. The police aren’t going to help him with that, and that’s all he wants.

He hunches his shoulders forward sadly. He hopes he just ran out while Jeno was getting robbed. He hopes he’ll come back.

They’ll look again tomorrow. They’ll search further and cast a wider net. They’ll find Byeolbit.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Renjun is huddled up by a bike rack near a small shop, shivering and wet. It’s rainy and miserable and cold. He misses Jeno’s apartment. He misses Bongsik’s warm licks on the top of his head, he misses Seol’s cuddles, and he misses chasing Nal around the living room.

And of course, he misses Jeno. The greetings every day before he goes out, and every evening when he comes back. Sitting in his lap, on his chest, on his hands when he’s trying to do things. Napping in a sunny spot every day and getting fingers that scratch behind his ears when he wakes up. If Renjun was just a cat and nothing more, he’d never leave. The other three must know how lucky they are.

Renjun should really get out of this neighborhood before long. It’s time to stop hanging around like he’s going to change his mind about his decision to move on. He’s seen all the posters Jeno and Donghyuck put up in every corner. If there was a record for the most lost kitten posters ever put up in a week, they shattered it.

Seeing that gray kitten looking out from every other utility pole makes him feel worse about himself. It’s no different from clinging to Jeno and praying he doesn’t wake up and chase him out. He’s still flirting with danger.

But here he is, looking at the yellow light emanating from Jeno’s window several floors up. It’s a clear view from here.

He cranes his neck and stares up. Up, beyond the roof of the building, at the flat, monotone gray sky. Fat drops of rain splatter on his forehead, in between his eyes. All he can do is wrinkle his nose and sigh.

Lost in his own thoughts, Renjun fails to notice the man rounding the corner. This man has an umbrella and a stack of laminated papers tucked under his arm.

Renjun’s knees buckle a little when a low voice shyly tries to speak to him.

“Excuse me. I’m so sorry to bother you. Have you seen a gray kitten around here?”

Jeno holds up his umbrella so it covers them both, lowering his head politely as he speaks. He’s always had a shy manner of speaking in Renjun’s estimation, but he’s so much quieter than he ever is around the cats or Donghyuck.

Renjun stares, wide-eyed.

“I think my cat ran away. Um… He’s not very big. Just a gray kitten. He has some white on his belly and legs, and a dark spot on the back of his paw. Big shiny eyes. Did you see anything like that?”

“…”

Jeno clears his throat awkwardly; Renjun holds his tongue and keeps very, very still. Everything feels precarious.

“A-Are you okay?”

Renjun turns his head enough to peek up from under his hood. “I’m fine.”

“I know you.” Jeno’s eyes go wide. He leans in a little, and Renjun stumbles back a step. Jeno retreats just as quickly, looking guilty for startling him. “S-Sorry. I just meant, I’ve met someone who looks a lot like you somewhere before.”

“Really?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. That’s a weird thing to say, isn’t it. Anyway, I don’t want to bother you if you haven’t seen anything. I just really want to find my cat.”

Silly Jeno. Curiosity killed the cat.

Renjun reaches up and pulls his hood down—it crumples back against his neck, and his ridiculous kitten ears twitch a few times as they stand straight up through his hair. Jeno goes from looking embarrassed about his entire existence to staring in utter disbelief.

He underestimated Jeno. Maybe it’s because Jeno always speaks about himself humbly and never fights it when Donghyuck teases him for being clueless, but Renjun had written this whole situation off as too bizarre, too complicated for him to ever accept. He can see Jeno’s attention snapping from place to place—Renjun’s ears, the birthmark on the back of his hand, his eyes staring back with a mix of rainwater and microscopic traces of teardrops stuck to his lashes.

“Byeolbit?”

Renjun smiles faintly. Curiosity killed Byeolbit. But satisfaction brought him back.

Jeno reaches out and grabs him by the hand, staring hard at the bruise-like streak across the bones in his hand. He’s warm and dry to the touch, and even after all of Renjun’s mistakes, the way he holds him feels trustworthy. “Let’s go home and talk.”

“Okay.” There it is. Renjun’s worst fears have been realized and instead of running away or being chased away, he holds on to Jeno’s fingers. “My real name is Renjun.”

“My name is Jeno.”

“I know that already.” Renjun laughs softly as Jeno gently pulls him in tow, always checking to make sure he’s not leaving him out of the umbrella, but never daring to look straight at him. “I know a lot about you, actually.”

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Jeno is having the most awkward dinner of his life. He’s not eating, but he’s watching Renjun dig around in the Cup Noodle Jeno made for him with his chopsticks. He’s wearing a dry set of Jeno’s clothes. Including a hoodie he’d specifically requested from Jeno’s closet.

“I was worried sick.” Jeno has to murmur this quietly or he’ll die of embarrassment.

“I was fine.” Renjun laughs around a cheekful of noodles. Jeno is confused about whether it’s okay for Renjun to be eating something so high in sodium given his unique physiological circumstances, watching him take every bite intently. “I can take care of myself. Spent some time as a street cat.”

“How did this happen?” This is Jeno’s hundredth time asking the question. Renjun has already given him a few looks of disbelief before restating his story again and again, each time making it simpler. It still doesn’t really make sense, though.

“I don’t know.” Renjun shrugs, finally giving up on answering. He has this way of smiling sweetly every time he brushes a question off like it’s no big deal. “Hey, can I have a beer?”

Jeno can’t exactly say no—it’s not as if he hadn’t been supplying them to him unknowingly, anyway. He returns from a brief trip to the kitchen with a metal can and some entirely new questions.

“Do you always have ears?”

“No, sometimes they just… stick. Same thing with the tail.”

“When did it start?”

“The minute I turned 18. I don’t know why, so don’t ask.”

That was going to be Jeno’s next question. He feels stupid for not having a backup prepared.

“Oh.”

“Look.” Renjun balances his chopsticks on the lip of his noodle container. “You don’t have to do any of this. I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me, considering… everything.”

Yes, Byeolbit, who isn’t just Byeolbit but also Renjun, is essentially running a racket to get by on the hard work of people who don’t moonlight as kittens. Jeno was just one sucker in a line of many.

It’s not the nicest thing anyone has done to Jeno, but it’s not the meanest, either—that dubious honor goes to the time Donghyuck teasingly pushed him flat on his face in front of a girl he liked in elementary school and broke his glasses. But that was also how they became friends. Maybe this could go something like that.

“You’re nice as a cat. And…” Jeno decides he shouldn’t mention the dreams again. But he’s thinking of his dreams and the soft, warm stranger in them. ‘Hot’, as Donghyuck described him. Then he remembers that Byeolbit was right there for that conversation. And so many other vulnerable moments. He’s probably seen Jeno without any clothes on.

Jeno hopes he isn’t blushing as he redirects his sentence: “And it’s nice having you.”

“It doesn’t freak you out that Byeolbit is also a person?”

“I mean, it’s unusual, but I don’t know. Aren’t we just roommates when you’re not my cat?” Jeno tries to walk that back—it seems like a pretty strange thing to be saying to another man. “I mean, you’re a cat, in addition to being a person.”

Renjun’s mouth hangs open. He looks pretty when he’s the one being flummoxed by something. “Why would you ask me if we’re roommates, present tense?”

“I don’t know. It was working for me.” Jeno’s voice drops so low that he can see Renjun’s kitten ears pricking to hear it. So odd. So cute. “I can’t just let you wander off. At least, if I know about it, you won’t have to hide it. Maybe you can find some way to make it work.”

Renjun seems to be temporarily lost for words. Suddenly, he can’t seem to look at Jeno. He clears his throat, and though he delivers it with the same dry sarcasm that Jeno is used to from Donghyuck, it doesn’t flow quite so seamlessly. “Wow, I didn’t think conversations with you would be this weird.”

“You can just leave if you want, too. I can pack you a better bag and give you some money?” Whatever he chooses, Jeno doesn’t have any right to protest. But he can hope.

There’s the sound of silence as Renjun stares into his lap. He had the air of a confident person until just this second. Now he picks at the skin around one of his nails, anxiety creeping into his face. He nods silently, apparently unable to directly say yes.

“It’s always up to you.” Jeno is stating the obvious. He licks his lips to stall for time before he dares to ask something completely selfish.

“Can you show me?”

Renjun’s head snaps up to look at Jeno again. They’re staring at each other. Jeno is a little confused by the things they still don’t understand, but he has this quietly gurgling excitement in his stomach over the realization that things aren’t done between them quite yet. It’d be nice if Renjun felt a little of the same.

“You want to see?” Renjun smiles. “Okay. Blink and you’ll miss it.”

Jeno vows not to blink. Renjun flops over on his side, curling up a little on the floor, as if he’s laying down for a spontaneous map. There’s a wisp of something hanging in the air—smoke, vapor, the essence of magic, if there is such a thing— as he simply vanishes. The clothes he was wearing fall into a flat heap.

There’s a little lump scurrying under the fabric of the hoodie. Byeolbit, in all his furry little glory, pops out of an arm hole. Jeno tries very hard not to smile, lazily resting his hand on the floor, palm up.

Byeolbit flops into it and meows at him as he rubs his face against Jeno’s fingers. Even when everything is extremely weird and light years away from anything normal or reasonable, Byeolbit is cute to him. How could anyone not love him?

“Is it fun being a kitten?” Jeno asks his last question. His cat friend dashes off to go bother Bongsik without answering.. It looks fun.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Renjun really just wanted to settle his conscience with Jeno. He would have been fine if Jeno cursed him out after he divulged the whole truth about his con game, so long as it meant finally being heard. But although he knew Jeno wasn’t that type of person, he figured there must be a limit to his kindheartedness somewhere.

That is not the case. Jeno is either naive in a concerning way, very lonely, or in love with him. He loves Byeolbit, that much for sure. But Renjun thinks it might go a little further than that.

He sips the tea he made while he watches Jeno click on things in League from a chair beside him. Turns out that even when Renjun was human, the least awkward option for their ongoing coexistence was to more or less hang out in silence except a few quiet comments, the same way they often did as human and kitty. Minus the petting and grooming, although Renjun had tried to sit in his lap multiple times now. It was a reflex.

Look at him. Jeno is slouched forward and chewing his lip as he mulls over… whatever it is he has to mull over in League. Nal is sleeping on his feet, so he’s trying to keep as still as he can while he plays.

He is such a soft man. He always tells Renjun when he’s going to shower, in case he might want to use the bathroom first. He includes sour Skittles in his Coupang orders even after without a hint of resentment. Now instead of furtively stealing a portion of Jeno’s paycheck, it’s shared with him.

It is ridiculous that Renjun is permitted to stay here. It’s even more ridiculous that he’s accepted without question.

Renjun doesn’t think he deserves this. He’s made that very clear with himself time and time again. He’s even casually hinted about this when Jeno brings him something nice on his way home—Iced tea? You really shouldn’t worry about feeding me as a person. It’s one thing when he does it for Byeolbit. Kittens are born to be loved. Renjun, on the other hand, is not sure what was born for.

“Oh… I overextended.” Jeno sighs.

Jeno doesn’t ever seem the least bit burdened by thoughts about Renjun’s freeloading. He looks more bothered by his impending match loss than anything Renjun has done or said.

Donghyuck suddenly shouts loud enough that Renjun can hear him through the headset. It startles Nal out of the room. Jeno laughs as he tries to calm him down, they chat for a while before they admit there is no saving the game. When it’s over, they bicker listlessly about who is lowering whose rank before saying good night. He turns around from his monitor.

“You’re watching? Isn’t it really boring?”

Renjun’s big gray ears flutter when he meets Jeno’s eyes. He was watching Jeno and not the game, of course. Jeno is quiet and incomplex, but not boring.

“It doesn’t make any sense.”

“You know, you might be right about that.” Jeno yawns, stretching his big hands and spreading his long fingers over his head. “Um. Do you want to meet Donghyuck like this, someday?”

Renjun can’t hide his shock. “As a person?”

“Yeah.”

“What would you tell him?”

Jeno crosses his ankles and stares at the floor. Evidently, he hadn’t really thought about it. “That you’re my friend I met somewhere, I guess.”

“Your friend who you’ve never mentioned once to the guy you talk to almost every day.”

“Oh, well…” Jeno is fidgeting. “Maybe I can tell him I met you on an app recently.”

On an app. Renjun used his phone plenty. He doesn’t even have any dating apps installed.

“He’s a very funny guy. I’d love to meet him… properly. But I don’t think he’s going to buy the idea that you’re dating an unemployed, homeless man from an app. Who wears your clothes. What would I even say about myself if he asked?”

Jeno looks disappointed. Renjun has to try not to smirk as he watches him sulk and turn his thoughts over in his head. It’s not that he feels good about deflating his enthusiasm, but there is something fun about the way Jeno shows it.

“You have a home,” he murmurs at last. The smile vanishes from Renjun’s face. There is something so serious about Jeno in this moment; it makes the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

“Why are you so nice to me?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you so nice to me?” Renjun repeats himself. He wants an answer.

“‘Cause I like Byeolbit…”

Renjun narrows his eyes, and Jeno shifts nervously, apparently fully aware that this answer is not cutting it.

“I really do! But also, I don’t know. I feel comfortable around you. And I think you… I think…” Jeno trails off, eyes darting around.

“What? What is it?” Renjun tries to sound completely nonchalant, like he’s encouraging Jeno to keep talking for his own benefit rather than Renjun’s curiosity.

Visibly embarrassed, Jeno stands up from his computer chair, acting as if he didn’t hear the question and therefore doesn’t have to acknowledge it. He walks across the room and flops face first on the bed, face in the pillow behind Renjun. Is he pretending to fall asleep?

“I dreamed about you, I guess.” His voice is muffled by down and cotton. “But that doesn’t make sense, because I didn’t know you existed until I saw you outside. So you should ignore all of this.”

It’s Renjun’s turn to flush red, but at least Jeno can’t see it while he’s hiding himself away. “Is that so?” It’s a response of no substance at all. His tail moves in an erratic, jerky sway, completely out of his control. He’d been afraid of an answer like that.

There was nothing good to say. Until now, Renjun was doing a great job of shutting away memories of whatever it was he thought he was doing on the nights before he had two-way communication, before he really had to worry about what Jeno might think of him.

Jeno-ya, you’re not crazy. I wanted you to see me. You’re a strange, nice guy, and I wanted very badly for you to see me.

“I just made myself cringe,” Jeno remarks as he sits up from his defensive position on the bed, although his eyes don’t seem to want to look up any further along Renjun’s body than his knees. “I mean, it’s probably just a coincidence and you just have some of the same features. You can’t accurately remember all the fine details when it’s over.”

“It’s not that weird. All dreams are weird, anyway. I don’t mind being in your dreams.”

“But what if I’m just making things up?”

“Then I’m fine with that.” Renjun murmurs. “I want to be in your dreams.”

“Oh.” Jeno loses his ongoing battle with concealing the shyness in his face. He thinks.

Renjun could watch him think all day. He could cradle his head in his arms and warn him not to strain himself with all that thinking.

“Wow, so all of that really was you… Every last part of it.” It seems like Jeno is only just processing the extent of efforts that he’d had to go through after all of the trouble Renjun has caused him. Like he’s only now truly understanding that he doesn’t sleepwalk, and that his dreams aren’t the result of some breakdown in his psychology. “You threw my camera out the window?”

“Yeah.” Renjun smiles as he thinks about it hurtling across the sky. “Sorry for making you think you’re a sleepwalker.”

“Oh. That’s fine. Sorry I made it hard on you to do your thing at night.”

They sit there in a silence that is admittedly awkward—like when a friend breaks something of yours and waits there frozen for the first indication of whether you’re angry or not.

“I’m tired,” Renjun murmurs, standing out of his chair. “Let me sleep with you.” All of his clothes hit the floor in a blink, no human form to hold them upright anymore. He mews as he crawls out of his shirt.

Jeno, the eternally nice boy, leans over the edge of the bed and scoops him up so he doesn’t have to measure a big kitten leap onto the mattress. He runs his long fingers over his head and down his spine as he holds him close to his chest.

“I forgot to ask you. Are you really gonna be a little guy like this forever?” It’s true, Renjun as Byeolbit is still hardly more than a handful. “That’s kind of cute.”

Renjun feels like he could say the same about Jeno and the shyness he hides behind whenever Byeolbit is gone. He holds him so confidently now, both hands resting lightly on his body as he rises and falls with each one of Jeno’s breaths.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Jeno is pretending to sit on the couch and mind his own business with his hands folded neatly in his lap, knee bouncing nervously and rustling the paper bag from the department store beside him. Renjun is bathing—he can hear him singing. He has a lovely voice that mixes in with the wave of humidity and fog when he comes out from the bathroom, trailing behind him to Jeno’s bedroom where he goes to get dressed.

Jeno is about to do something weird. And that’s why he’s dying of awkwardness even though nothing has happened yet. All Renjun has done is take one step into the living room with wet hair, and Jeno’s fight or flight instinct is kicking in.

“Hello.” Jeno practically launches himself out of the couch, knees locking into place.

“Oh. Hi?” Renjun is immediately suspicious of Jeno’s unusually stiff greeting. He peeks up from under the stark white hood he borrowed from the closet, eyes shining. Jeno tries to lighten up a little.

“I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“You know a lot about me, right? Everything about how I live and what I like.” This sounds really egotistical to Jeno’s ears. “Because of staying here.”

“That’s right.” Renjun smirks. “I’ve even seen your browser history.”

Jeno can’t imagine the look on his face right now, but it seems like it’s enough to make Renjun laugh and gently tap his chin with his fingers. “Don’t worry. I’m teasing. I was just looking for useful stuff.”

Terrifying.

“I was thinking, maybe I could learn a bit more about you?” Jeno clears his throat. “I hope this isn’t crossing a line, but I know you don’t really have your own clothes and a lot of my stuff is kinda big, so…” He holds out the bag.

Renjun momentarily looks like he might rip the paper bag apart in a flicker of instinct, but he just crinkles it in his hands as he peers inside. “You bought me clothes?”

“If you don’t like it, I’m sorry. But I thought we could go see the city together. Go to a cafe or have a walk or something. I just want to do something you like.” Jeno tries not to nervously throw up all over his lap, and instead waits patiently for Renjun to explain to him why they couldn’t possibly do that.

“Okay.” Renjun smiles at him in a slow, warm sort of way—it feels something like when Donghyuck pats him on the head. “I’ll put these on.”

He watches Renjun turn back with the bag tucked in his arms. Jeno hopes he likes his selection. It’s hard not to notice how much he swims in Jeno’s clothes, the shoulder seams hanging down his arms, the tight cuffs of his sleeves swaying from the tips of his fingers as he saunters around the apartment. He gets the distinct feeling Renjun would hate it if he heard this, but he sometimes looks as delicate as Byeolbit does in Jeno’s eyes.

Jeno sits back down and drums his fingers nervously against his kneecaps. He thinks about the dreams a lot, even though dreams are just random noise. And he thinks about the way he sometimes catches Renjun staring at him, especially after he’s had a few drinks.

Predictably, Renjun emerges, looking altogether different. It’s not that Jeno picked out anything unusual—just a white turtleneck and nicely fitted black pants, the same sort of thing found in the window of any Zara. But he’s never seen so much of Renjun’s actual figure at once.

“I-It fits.” Jeno had been worried. He held up the pants at the store in the mirror and wondered how anybody could reasonably fit a leg in them, but sure enough, Renjun really was that small.

“Not bad.” Renjun shrugs. He doesn’t have his ears today. Jeno kind of misses them. “Let’s go.”

Jeno isn’t sure what his next move is supposed to be, but it doesn’t matter. Renjun all but forcibly links arms with him and hauls out the door.

It’s a bit strange going out with someone who doesn’t bring anything with him. No keys, no bag, no wallet, not even a phone. And it's also strange that Renjun seems to know the neighborhood restaurants and cafes better than he does.

“That bar waters down their drinks.” Renjun points to some sign mixed in with a dozen other signs for restaurants.

“I’ve never been…” Jeno murmurs. He doesn’t really go to bars unless Donghyuck forces him. It’s hard for him to imagine Renjun ordering drinks at a bar. He does like to drink, for sure, but he has that pure boy look and the same shiny eyes as Byeolbit. Innocent.

“You never go out without your friend.” Renjun laughs.

“I do. Sometimes.” He doesn’t, really.

“Sure. It surprised me, you know. I’ve lived with a few bachelors before. They usually get into a little more trouble than you do.”

Jeno doesn’t know what to say. He feels distinctly uncool.

Renjun looks over his shoulder and smiles brightly. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s cute. You’re a good boy.”

It’s not the first time Jeno has been called this in a way that seems a little backhanded but feels nice all the same.

“I did go there once, though. With Donghyuck.” Jeno gestures at a signboard for a place ahead of them. “Good yukhoe, if you like raw meat as much as Byeolbit does…”

Renjun puts his hands up and shrugs. “I can’t be held accountable for the things I do around food as a kitten. I can’t help but try to eat anything that looks good when I’m in that state.”

Jeno laughs.

“That cafe sells a mint chocolate latte.” Renjun points at another place across the road. It’s funny how excited he looks to report about how much more he knows about this street than Jeno.

“As a hot drink?” Jeno grimaces.

“I know, it was weird. And that place has good jjukkumi.” He rushes a few feet ahead and points to the third floor of a different short building. “Very spicy.”

“I can’t really handle spicy food.”

“Jeno-ya. If that’s the case, then we should go there!” He runs back and grabs Jeno by the arm, steering him into the stairwell without giving him so much as a sliver of an opportunity to protest. “People who can’t handle spice are boring. Let’s toughen you up.” He seems more excited to go there after hearing that Jeno might suffer.

Maybe he had the wrong impression about Renjun based on his kitten behavior and their peaceful hangouts in his room. He was fickle and somewhat evasive as a person, a very cat-like trait, but the adventure-seeking… That seemed like it was all Renjun. Jeno is more convinced than ever that he would get along with Donghyuck.

If Jeno ever had control over this outing, he’s lost it now.

This is how they end up on a dinner date. Maybe it’s not officially a date, but it feels like exactly a first date, because Jeno is suffering very badly. There is no surer sign of a first date.

The jjukkumi are far too spicy. If they’re any better than any other restaurant’s jjukkumi, Jeno can’t tell, because his tongue is on fire. He feels himself sweating under the lettuce leaf in the palm of his hand, trying to work up the courage to eat another piece. Spiciness isn’t real. Your brain just thinks your tongue is under attack. What if he thinks you’re boring?

Renjun, on the other hand, is happily snacking on the octopus only after dragging it through the bright red sauce for better coverage. His lips are pink and swollen from the spice, and his cheek moves in a cute sort of way as he chews.

Jeno feels absolutely weak in comparison.

Although it feels like he’s inhaling and exhaling miniature daggers of pain across the inside of his mouth, Jeno forces himself to converse. That’s what he wants, anyway.

At home, it feels strange to talk for a long time, because that’s not how they used to spend time before Renjun showed himself. But it should be different here. They need to talk, and Jeno needs to learn everything he can about him. Then Renjun will trust him, and stop being so skittish and cagey about saying what he wants to say. If Jeno could win him over as a kitten, he could win him over as a person.

“Is this better than Churu to you?” He dabs at the sweat on his temple with the back of his hand.

“Huh?” Renjun leans over their table and blinks at him, his usually bright and sparkly eyes narrowed. He’s been drinking all of the soju by himself.

That’s fine by Jeno, he’s used to getting outpaced by him when they sit down to eat at home in relative quiet. Besides, it’s funny the way his eyes get glassy and he blinks at Jeno. He looks the most like Byeolbit then.

“I mean, would you rather eat Churu or this?”

“They’re different tongues. It’s apples and oranges. What a weird question.” Renjun scoffs.

“Of course it’s a weird question. What are the normal questions you ask to someone who can turn into a cat?” As impotent of a retort as that was, Jeno hasn’t really teased back at Renjun since the day he met him. He smiles widely. “Should I ask about fleas, instead?”

“Ha!” Renjun laughs right into the bottom of his shot glass. “You’d have a conniption if I had fleas.”

It’s true. Jeno would never let a flea near Byeolbit. Jeno stares at the pile of lettuce and catches himself smiling about nothing in particular. He needs to get better at conversation immediately, but his heart is racing, because of all the blood rushing to his head. Because of the jjukkumi.

“You want to know about me, huh?” Thankfully, Renjun seems to sense his struggle. “There’s not much I can tell you.”

“Where did you go after you left my place?”

“I told you. Not my first time as a street cat. I just didn’t move to a new neighborhood before you found me.”

Jeno frowns. Doesn’t that mean he also had to be a street person? “Where did you sleep?”

“Oh, just wherever. Sometimes I can sneak in somewhere warm. Sometimes a stranger would take me home.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Jeno-ya, you were a stranger who took me home. Both times.”

Jeno falls silent, eyebrows furrowed. He wants to be more than a stranger.

“You’re in such a mood today,” Renjun remarks. “You shouldn’t worry about what I was doing when I wasn’t around. I was fine.”

“But if I don’t ask, then I won’t know more about you.”

“You still know more about Renjun than anybody else. Does that make you feel better?”

It does.

“Is it boring, staying with me?”

At last, Renjun pushes the bottle of soju towards Jeno. “You need to relax. I like staying with you. It’s calm and cozy and I don’t really get that very much. Not when I’m like this, anyway.”

Jeno picks up the bottle, obediently refilling Renjun’s glass and then his own. He doesn’t like drinking quite as much as Renjun does, but if he seems uptight, then he’ll down some.

“I know you think I’m a big mystery, but we’re closer than you think. There’s still stuff I want to know about you, too.” Renjun tugs at the neck of his turtleneck. Jeno briefly catches a glimpse of his collarbone. “Do I get to ask any questions, Jeno-ya?”

Jeno gulps. He doesn’t like how smug he looks.

“Hm?”

“What’d we do in your dreams?”

Jeno flushes hard, quickly stuffing octopus into his lettuce and devouring it to buy himself time. “We just talked,” he finally manages.

“That’s it?” That must not be the answer Renjun was expecting. His expression is flustered. “Well, I knew that.”

It’s Jeno’s turn to do a double-take. He picks up a napkin and presses it against his forehead. “How do you mean?”

Renjun makes a noise, not too dissimilar from a growl. “You’re so naive, really. You’re the one who should be a kitten that gets watched over and coddled. I can take care of myself, but you…” He pouts his lips in a way that makes him look like one of the full-cheeked stuffed animals Jeno sometimes sees in arcade claw machines. What happened to all of that self-assuredness? Now he’s fussy. “You think I never went near you as a human?”

“Hm?” Jeno keeps making the same sound every time Renjun hits him with something he couldn’t see coming.

“I tried talking to you a few times while you were asleep.” Renjun says it flatly and moves on. “You were bad conversation. I just wanted to know if that’s all. Now, I need another bowl of rice. How about you?”

“Yes, please…”

A few pieces lock into place in Jeno’s brain, precious seconds too late for him to undo his white lie about what he remembers about the precise details of his dreams. Of course he remembers reaching out to touch him, the warmth of his fingers. He remembers the weight against his chest, too.

Would Renjun do that? He does seem to look for thrills.

He sets down his chopsticks in surrender. Jeno feels like he might pass out if he tries to eat any more spicy food.

ฅ^._.^ฅ

Renjun’s heart races in his chest. He hasn’t been drinking, but he feels that loose giddiness, the gentle spin of the floor beneath him. He’s waiting at the door for Jeno to come home from his job at the cycle shop. He knows this routine better than anyone.

He’s convinced himself to start risking things for no reason again. He woke up this morning and the light fell just right on Jeno’s sleepy-dumb face while he was making his incomprehensible breakfast special of matcha ice cream on thick toast for the two of them.

For whatever reason, that was the last straw. He doesn’t have Jeno’s patience for a careful exploration of everything except the glaringly obvious. Jeno was hiding something from him, and that thing was likely the same thing Renjun was hiding from him in return.

His fuzzy ears twitch. Someone is coming up the stairwell two steps at a time. He draws back, his tail shifting as he stares at the door.

Jeno is oblivious as he enters, entirely focused on executing the exact same routine he always does on arrival and takes a few beats to notice Renjun lurking just a few inches away, blocking him from stepping in any further.

Renjun grabs him by the shoulders—he’s taller, but predictably, he melts down towards Renjun with the slightest pull. Because he’s Jeno Lee, and he does what people need him to do.

“Do you still want to get to know me?” Renjun asks.

Jeno looks particularly sweet with all of the stammering and blinking. “Hello? Y-Yes?”

“You still wanna do what I like?”

No words come out of Jeno’s mouth, and that’s just as well, since it means more room for Renjun as he leans in for a kiss. The impolite and brazen type. Not even saintly Jeno could refuse, his hands timidly landing on Renjun’s sides as he lets him give his lower lip a swift little bite.

“Ow.”

“Stop being a pussy, Jeno-ya.” Renjun smacks him swiftly in the upper arm, receiving another ‘ow’. “Tell me you like me.”

“Why don’t you tell me that you like me?” It’s such a juvenile thing to say. But he’s not wrong.

Renjun turns to walk off, although there’s not really any place for him to go except Jeno’s room. His tail, poking out uncomfortably through the leg of his boxers under one of Jeno’s giant hoodies, whips around with palpable irritation.

“Whoa, hey, I was just kidding.” Jeno is right behind him, hurrying to explain himself. He reaches out and grabs Renjun by the sleeve, barely catching him in between his fingertips. “I really like you. And I knew I liked you before I met you, and I feel bad you seem to think no one cares about you as a human.”

Renjun stops and leans against the doorframe. “Ha! I knew it.” He doesn’t know why it’s a gotcha. He got what he wanted without much effort, after all. Like he always does with Jeno. Maybe he should just ask more often.

Jeno stands there, smiling with his usual patience, although there is a distinct shade of incredulousness to it. “What? That’s it?”

“Well, yeah. I just wanted you to stop playing around.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but based on everything so far, I thought you enjoyed playing around.”

So, even he can be incisive.

Renjun raises his hand again and smiles when Jeno cowers and whines, half-laughing. It’s not all that different from how they are when Renjun suddenly decides Jeno’s hoodie strings are the most interesting thing he’s ever seen while in kitten mode. Jeno will cower even under a soft paw punch. “I can’t stand you.”

“I told you. You can leave if it’s not working. I just want you to do what makes you happy.” Jeno is sulking, his eyes closed like he’s exhausted.

When did sweet little Jeno start talking back to him so much? Renjun grabs him by the face. “Finally tired of taking care of me?”

He looks him right in all those handsome features creased into a perfect eye smile and realizes that Jeno is just as good at playing dumb as he is at actually being dumb.

“No. Tired of being taken care of? I feel like you’re begging me to tell you to go away. But I’m not going to.”

Renjun’s big ears flatten out on either side of his head as he scowls. Jeno is trying not to laugh. Renjun doesn’t feel bad when he pulls him in close and bites his lips and maybe even his cheek once between kisses. At some point, Jeno finally tries to take a hold on his wrists to get him to settle down into something a little less vicious. It works. Jeno’s hands are soft because he spends every night rubbing hand cream into his knuckles and nail beds. His kisses are kind and slow because they’re exactly like the rest of him.

“I hate being taken care of. But you’re good at it. So I’ve decided not to resist anymore.” Byeolbit wasn’t skittish or shy—he was perfectly socialized and sweet to everything around him. Renjun, on the other hand, was ragged and feral and being forced to learn that even if he knows everything there is to know about Jeno, it’s still going to feel like a blind leap to trust that even those parts of him are something somebody like him could appreciate. “Jeno-ya.”

Renjun pulls him by the wrist. He searches Renjun’s face with inquisitive eyes, looking for some sign of what he’s expected to do next. Renjun is happy to show him.

It’s fun to entice him into a kiss by pressing their lips together and drawing back quickly just to see how silly Jeno looks waiting there for more. It’s fun to flop back on his mattress and make him crawl half-on top of him to keep the distance between them small. And it’s fun to feel all the overdeveloped muscles on his back through his shirt.

Jeno has done this before, or so he insists in a whisper when Renjun asks him after placing a thigh between his legs—but clearly it hasn’t been all that often. Renjun should have guessed as much from all of the League. It’s obvious because he has clumsy hands, but they’re warm and move with intention under Renjun’s clothes, which are Jeno’s clothes, which are Renjun’s clothes, and so it goes on forever. He runs his fingertips shyly over his ribs and his chest once he takes his hoodie off.

Renjun undresses him to match, pressing his face warmly against Jeno’s jawline. It’s harder to smell him as clearly with a human nose, but he still smells warm and inviting and like someone Renjun wants to be wrapped up in.

He’s being forward when he pulls Jeno’s hand down to brush over the top of his leg, small fingers pushing against the knuckles of larger ones to get him to grasp confidently. Jeno follows instructions, feeling along the inside of his thigh, curiously slipping under the fabric of his boxers.

Now more than ever, Renjun can’t stand his patience. He touches wherever he wants to touch, and he grabs Jeno’s hand and puts it wherever he thinks it should go. He takes all the kisses he wants, too. He leads, and Jeno follows.

After the lube and some hasty shifting along the mattress, he has his leg hiked up on Jeno’s narrow waist, chest filling and draining with excited pants as he waits for Jeno to give him what he’s waiting for.

Jeno is certainly trying, but it’s taking him forever to get anywhere. Sure, he’s big, but he’s going so carefully that it’s like he’s defusing a bomb.

“Jeno-ya. Come on… Today.”

“Sorry, I just don’t want to hurt you.”Jeno is still being so precious about it, constantly looking at Renjun for approval with every little bit of forward progress. “Like this?” He asks, his brown eyes all nervous behind the dark hair in his face.

He seems to think Renjun is still a helpless kitten, all without any awareness of how much he acts like a sweet baby creature himself. Renjun cups his face with his hands. Jeno-ya, you’re so nice it’s making you look an idiot.

“This isn’t my first time.” He had to live his human life in broken-up fragments, but he made sure he did what he could to live it all the same. “I’m older than you and more experienced in life, you know.” There’s no need to specify that it’s only by a single month; it’s just a matter of principle. Renjun isn’t fragile and helpless at all.

“Really?” Jeno looks taken aback by the revelation, but then he buries his head in Renjun’s collarbone and whines, his informal speech traded in for something a bit more polite. “Hyung-ah, tell me what to do.”

Pathetic. Renjun giggles as he wraps his arms around Jeno’s head, the silkiness of his hair tickling his forearms. Does he know how funny he is?

They shift weight, Renjun rolling on top of him, sitting astride his hips. His hair hangs in his face, his tail swishing across Jeno’s thigh as he begins to move in his lap. Jeno might not know what to do with it, but he feels right—the size that sticks to Renjun’s insides in a pleasant way even with all of the lube.

Renjun’s ears twitch; his face turns hot.

He can’t help but smile as he looks down at Jeno. He’s all sweaty with hair stuck to his forehead, averting his eyes from Renjun. His Adam’s apple is sliding around nervously in his throat. Renjun sweeps his dark hair out of his face with delicate swipes of the tips of his fingers.

Renjun’s tail stands up, proudly swaying behind his head. He can’t help himself, it comes easy when Jeno looks so out of his depth underneath him—if this is what he has to offer him, then so be it.

He takes both of his hands in his own, neatly lacing their fingers together. This gets Jeno’s focus. Renjun lifts his hips and his tail comes down hard against Jeno’s thigh, thumping in the same steady rhythm he uses as he drops himself in his lap.

“Does it feel good?” It must. Jeno is making sounds that are kind of like cat chittering, just deeper down in his chest. He nods weakly, squirming beneath Renjun’s weight to meet him properly. What a good boy.

It feels good for Renjun, too. When he slows down, it’s mostly to tease himself, but Jeno looks pretty when he groans because of it. He purrs and coos Jeno’s name over and over again, trying to get him to look straight at him as he hurries his pace. Jeno-ya. Jeno-ya. Jeno-ya?

Jeno finally cracks. Renjun rewards him by bringing his fingers to his mouth, still squeezing his hand tightly as he settles his index and middle fingers against the ridges of his teeth. He bites down, quick but firm.

“Ow,” Jeno whimpers. The way he stares dumbly at Renjun with all the muscles in his stomach flinching is endearing. Renjun likes when bigger, stronger animals capitulate to him. Even better when they’re all naive about it.

Renjun untangles their fingers and grabs his wrist with both hands, holding him still as he bites his fingers again. Jeno whines about it every time, but he doesn’t try to pull away. Not even as Renjun tries to leave rings of bruises all up and down his fingers, lapping at each one with a soft tongue. He bites harder when Jeno presses up a little too nicely against his insides and his tail vibrates with elation.

Jeno is trying to say something but not doing a particularly good job of enunciating through gritted teeth. Renjun thinks he understands what he’s trying to say anyway.

“Pet me.” Renjun places Jeno’s now thoroughly adored hand on his thigh.

Jeno is done for—he holds on to Renjun’s waist with one hand and comes just shy of apologizing when he finishes. There’s nothing to apologize for—Renjun is content to roll his hips against him until the twitching of his tail spreads to his sensitive cat ears, then his thighs, then the pit of his stomach.

The room feels warm and familiar and cozy as he lays atop Jeno, letting his weight sink against him. Renjun feels like he’s been waiting forever to find out what this feels like. It’s better than he imagined, especially with Jeno’s arms wrapped snugly around his waist.

He pushes their foreheads together, staring into Jeno’s eyes. Although he seems unnerved for a second, he smiles soon after. Good.

Renjun blinks. As slowly and intentionally as he can. He smiles too, while his lids are closed, tranquil and fond. Basking in what it’s like to not have to sneak into Jeno’s bed at night for company. He slides his tail down his leg, the end curling gently under Jeno’s knee.

Renjun’s lids flit back open to see that Jeno’s smile has blossomed into a full-blown grin, eye smile and all. Jeno, the cat expert that he is, knows exactly what a slow blink means.

Notes:

i feel like it’s been a lifetime since i finished a fic let alone a jenren… thank you so much for reading.