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She wakes up from her nap, yawns, and stretches - and then looks around, trying to find out what it was that woke her. No loud shouting or running or banging, as is occasionally wont to happen – but then she hears the noise again: a loud moan.
Ugh. Of course. What else could it be?
Annoyed, she pads over to the sofa, where eyebrows-human and tattoo-human are trying to mate yet again.
They’re not even really any good at it.
For one, they keep licking each other, despite it being common sense to separate grooming and mating – if you try to do both at the same time, neither gets done properly. (Case in point: they often go wash themselves after with water – she shudders at the thought – and they still don’t have any kittens.)
For another, they don’t quite seem to have grasped which parts have to go where for a successful mating. She’s tried to explain that mouths and paws are not helpful – are, in fact, hindering them – but they don’t seem to understand, or maybe they don’t want to understand: frequently, when she tries to explain, they just ignore her – which, rude – and sometimes even go to the bedroom, locking her out in the process - even worse.
They’re lucky she likes them enough to forgive their rude behavior. Especially since they’re so hopeless! She’s sure that if there was any chance of them figuring it out themselves, they would have done so by now – they certainly practice often enough!
Honestly, if she didn’t know better, she’d think that that’s just what humans were like, eternally in heat, but none of the humans in the shelter ever tried to mate, and none of the other humans that follow her humans around have tried, either.
Maybe one of her humans just has a condition? One where the heat started, as usual, but then never stopped?
If she had to guess, she’d say it was eyebrows-human; he starts to smell like mating every time he lays eyes on tattoo-human. It must be quite distracting, she supposes. Poor thing.
Then again, he doesn’t seem to suffer much from his condition.
No, if anyone’s suffering, it’s her.
With that, she decides that their current attempts have been going on long enough – also, they woke her up from her wonderful nap; the least they can do is give her the attention she deserves.
She leaps up onto the sofa, and meows loudly for good measure.
They jump apart, startled. Eyebrows-human groans loudly. “No one told us she’d be such a cockblock.”
Tattoo-human laughs at him. “Yeah, that didn’t feature in their sales pitch,” he says. “Did it? No, they didn’t say anything about that, did they?” His voice gets progressively higher pitched as he picks her up and plops her on his lap; he’s positively cooing at her by the end.
Eyebrows-human looks disgruntled. “No, they just said that getting a pet would be good practice for any kids later on.” He stares balefully at her position on tattoo-human’s lap – probably jealous because she fits onto the lap so much better than he does. Tough luck for him, though – she is the one in charge. She demonstratively stretches out across tattoo-human’s lap.
Tattoo-human hums. “Honestly, Chay should know better than to think I’d need practice – I did basically raise him, and he turned out well enough.” He pets her as he talks.
Eyebrows-human laughs suddenly. “Do you think that the cockblocking is the real reason why they suggested getting a pet? God knows she does a world-class job with that.” His voice is fond, though, and she lightly bats at his hand. He should also pet her, please.
Tattoo-human’s grin turns shit-eating. “You know, if it really bothers you that much, we could always return her to the shelter.” He barely finishes the sentence before eyebrows-human snatches her away, hissing at tattoo-human.
“Don’t you dare,” eyebrows-human threatens.
Tattoo-human is almost choking on his laughter. It’s very undignified. Sometimes he reminds her of a dog.
Eyebrows-human scowls at him. “Very funny,” he sniffs, turning to her. “He doesn’t deserve our love, does he, making such mean jokes?”
She gives him a slow blink. To her delight, he blinks back.
“Well,” he says, sighing. “I suppose he’s very lucky we love him anyway.”
“Aw,” tattoo-human coos, leaning into eyebrows-human. “I love you too.”
They kiss again, but only once. She stretches herself out across both their laps and bats the air. Well-trained as they are, they understand this as their cue to pet her.
Eyebrows-human is right. She does love them.
She purrs happily.