Chapter Text
Munkustrap hated feeling weak. As a proud, sleek-furred feline with the physique of a warrior, he wasn’t used to sluggish limbs and a nose that refused to work properly. Yet, here he was, curled up on the couch, sniffling. His ears flicked in irritation as he watched his human, Jason, lift weights in the corner of the living room.
Jason was a towering man with broad shoulders and arms that could probably lift Munkustrap with one hand, not that he would ever allow such a thing—unless absolutely necessary, of course. But right now, he wasn’t worried about being picked up. His head felt heavy, and his fur was ruffled from all the shivering he was trying to suppress.
It wasn’t long before Jason noticed something was off. Usually, Munkustrap would be up and about, stretching dramatically, leaping onto the kitchen counter despite knowing it was “off-limits,” or perching on the windowsill like a noble guardian of the household. But today, he was just… curled up. And he hadn’t even protested when Jason sat next to him.
“You good, buddy?” Jason asked, setting his dumbbells aside. His rough hands gently scratched behind Munkustrap’s ear, but instead of purring or leaning into the touch, Munkustrap just blinked up at him, nose twitching before—
“Achoo!”
The force of the sneeze startled them both. Jason raised an eyebrow. “Huh. Cats can get colds?”
Munkustrap sniffled and tucked his paws under his chest. Of course, we can, you oversized ape, he wanted to say, but all that came out was a miserable little huff.
Jason frowned. “Alright, we’re going to the vet.”
Absolutely not. Munkustrap flicked his tail weakly, but before he could escape, Jason scooped him up in his ridiculously strong arms. It was humiliating.
—
The vet visit was… undignified. There were thermometers in places no proud feline should have to endure. The vet, a cheerful woman with curly hair, poked and prodded before confirming what Munkustrap already knew.
“Just a cold,” she said, scribbling something on a notepad. “Make sure he stays warm and hydrated. I’ll give you some medicine to help with the congestion.”
Jason nodded, his grip still firm around Munkustrap’s middle. “Got it.”
Munkustrap groaned internally. I do not need medicine. I just need to sleep this off in peace.
—
Back home, Jason placed him gently in his round cat bed near the heater. The warmth was nice, and despite himself, Munkustrap curled up into the soft blanket Jason had put there for him.
“Just rest, okay?” Jason murmured, running his fingers through Munkustrap’s silver-striped fur. The touch was soothing, and despite his earlier protests, he found himself pressing into it ever so slightly.
Jason chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, you act all tough, but you like it.”
Munkustrap let out a raspy, half-hearted purr, too tired to argue.
After a while, Jason stood up. “Gonna grab your medicine. Be right back.”
The moment the door clicked shut, Munkustrap sighed. He hated that humans couldn’t understand him. If they could, he’d tell Jason to skip the awful medicine and just keep petting him. That was far more effective.
But for now, he curled deeper into his bed, waiting for his human to return. Maybe just this once, he’d let Jason take care of him. Munkustrap let out a tired sigh, his head resting in the crook of his arms. His ears twitched as he caught the faintest sound of scurrying just outside the window above him. He wanted to ignore it—his body ached, and his nose was so stuffed he could barely smell anything. But curiosity, that wretched instinct, won out.
Lifting his head weakly, he blinked up at the window just in time to see a familiar figure perched on the sill.
Rum Tum Tugger.
Looking as effortlessly cool as ever, his brother sat with one leg lazily hanging over the edge, his golden fur sleek despite the cold breeze outside. He glanced down at Munkustrap, his usual smirk shifting into something closer to curiosity.
Munkustrap didn’t even have the strength to roll his eyes.
Tugger slid down with the grace of a practiced troublemaker, landing silently on the floor before striding over. His sharp eyes scanned Munkustrap from head to tail, taking in the unkempt fur, the sluggish movements, the utter lack of that usual commanding presence.
“Whoa, you look like you got run over by a truck,” Tugger quipped, crouching next to the cat bed.
Munkustrap let out a weak grumble. If I had the energy, I’d swat you.
Tugger tilted his head. “You’re actually letting me be this close without growling? You must be dying.”
Munkustrap gave him a flat look before tucking his head back into his arms. His brother was insufferable, but he had to admit—having him here wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Tugger sat down, resting his chin on one hand as he studied him. “Where’s your human? He finally get sick of you bossing him around?”
Munkustrap groaned. He didn’t have the patience for Tugger’s teasing today.
“Alright, alright, I get it,” Tugger chuckled, leaning back. “You don’t gotta say it. You’re sick, and I should probably leave you alone.”
For a moment, Munkustrap thought he would actually go. But then, Tugger reached out and lightly flicked his ear.
“…You need anything?”
Munkustrap’s ear twitched, but he didn’t lift his head. The fact that Tugger was asking at all meant he was actually concerned.
Instead of answering, he just let out a low sigh and shifted slightly in his bed, getting more comfortable.
Tugger nodded as if he understood. “Got it. You just wanna sleep.” He stretched out next to the bed, casually leaning against it. “Guess I can hang out for a bit. Y’know, in case your human gives you something disgusting and you need me to knock it out of his hands.”
Munkustrap let out a weak, raspy chuckle. He’d never admit it, but having his ridiculous brother around made him feel just a little bit better. As Jason walked through the door, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight before him. His usually proud and independent Munkustrap was curled up in his cat bed, tucked against another feline—a large, shaggy Maine Coon with a thick mane and an air of mischief. Jason knew exactly who this was.
Rum Tum Tugger.
That meant his eccentric neighbor, Mitch Mueller, was probably wondering where his “little rockstar” had disappeared to. But Jason wasn’t about to disturb the moment. Instead, he set the medicine bottle down on the table and stepped closer, causing Tugger’s sharp golden eyes to snap open.
The Maine Coon tensed, staring daggers at Jason as if daring him to make a wrong move. Jason simply smirked, crouching down and running a hand under Tugger’s chin. “You were worried, weren’t you?” he asked, scratching gently.
Tugger held his glare for a second longer before his resolve crumbled, and a deep, rumbling purr filled the room. Jason grinned. Yeah, that’s what I thought.
Leaving Tugger to his purring, Jason quickly set to work preparing the medicine. The vet had assured him it was mild and easy for cats to take, but he knew Munkustrap could be finicky. He poured the liquid into a small bottle with a rubber nipple, warming it slightly before heading back over to his sick feline.
Gently, Jason scooped Munkustrap up in his arms, cradling him bridal-style as he walked over to the couch. His cat barely reacted, only giving a slow blink before resting his head against Jason’s chest.
“Munk, Daddy’s got something that’ll make you feel better,” Jason murmured, bringing the bottle to Munkustrap’s mouth. His nose twitched, and for a second, Jason feared he’d reject it. But then, after a tentative sniff, Munkustrap latched onto the nipple and began to drink.
Jason let out a relieved breath, running a hand over his cat’s silver-striped fur as he felt the tension slowly leave his body. He could hear soft gulps as Munkustrap drank, and a small smile tugged at his lips when he realized why—the medicine was strawberry-flavored.
His favorite.
Jason felt the vibration of a weak, content purr against his chest as Munkustrap fully relaxed into him, his muscles slumping. “That’s a good boy,” Jason murmured, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. His free hand continued to pet his cat, fingers gliding through the soft fur as Munkustrap melted into the warmth.
On the other side of the couch, Tugger stretched, slinking his way closer. Jason met the Maine Coon’s sharp gaze and huffed out a quiet laugh.
“Don’t worry, he’s fine. Just a little sick is all.”
Tugger didn’t move from his spot, his large paws tucked neatly under his chest as he kept watch over his brother. Jason found it amusing—this cat, usually full of swagger and mischief, was playing the role of a protective sibling.
Letting Munkustrap continue drinking, Jason leaned his head back against the couch, content to sit there for as long as his cat needed. Tugger remained where he was, his golden eyes flicking between Munkustrap and the human.
Jason smirked. For all that attitude, you care more than you let on, don’t you?And in the quiet warmth of the living room, with one cat purring softly against his chest and another keeping a close, suspicious watch, Jason figured he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The sudden knock on the door made both Jason and Tugger turn their heads. Munkustrap barely reacted, only flinching slightly before relaxing again against Jason’s chest.
“Come in,” Jason called out.
The door swung open, revealing Mitch Mueller, Tugger’s owner. As always, he looked every bit the amateur rockstar—ripped jeans, a vintage band tee, a leather jacket slung over his shoulders, and a mess of tousled black hair. He had the attitude to match too, always carrying himself like he was about to step on stage.
But the second his eyes landed on Tugger, all that tough-guy bravado softened.
“There you are, superstar,” Mitch murmured, stepping further into the room. He walked straight to the couch where Tugger sat, eyeing his cat with concern. “Daddy’s been looking all over for you. What’s wrong, precious?”
Jason watched as Mitch ran a hand down Tugger’s back, feeling the tension still lingering in the big Maine Coon’s muscles. Tugger usually carried himself with swagger, but right now, he looked uncharacteristically subdued.
Mitch’s gaze shifted, finally noticing Munkustrap nestled against Jason, still latched onto the bottle. His eyes flicked to Jason. “Sick?”
Jason nodded. “Just a cold. Vet gave me some meds for him.”
Mitch exhaled through his nose. “Figures. Tugger wouldn’t sit still when we were inside today. Kept pacing by the door like he knew something was off.” He shook his head, then reached down and scooped Tugger into his arms. The big Maine Coon immediately wrapped his arms around Mitch’s neck, pressing his fluffy head under his chin.
Jason smirked. “Didn’t peg him for the clingy type.”
Mitch snorted. “You kidding? This dude acts like he owns the place, but the second something’s wrong, he turns into a big ol’ mama’s boy.” He rubbed behind Tugger’s ears, earning a deep purr.
Tugger turned his head slightly, golden eyes flicking toward his brother. His tail swayed lazily before he murmured, barely audible—
“Bye.”
Then, Mitch gave Jason a nod and started toward the door. “Alright, time to let sick boy get some rest.” He paused just before stepping out. “Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”
Jason nodded. “Will do.”
The door clicked shut behind them, and just like that, Jason was alone again with Munkustrap. The silver tabby had finished most of the bottle, his eyes half-lidded in exhaustion.
Jason chuckled softly, adjusting his grip so Munkustrap was resting more comfortably against his chest. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
Munkustrap let out a quiet sigh, his tail curling slightly against Jason’s arm. His purrs, though faint, rumbled against Jason’s skin, a sign that, for now, he was safe, warm, and cared for.