stray

by boredorphan

Summary:

“Why are they barking so much? Did they see another squirrel?”

“Hm… I don’t think so. Maybe that neighbor’s cat came back” Fernando says.

“Impossible, no cat has the courage to come near our house after last time” Mark said, convinced, but leaned over to look out the window and understand what caused his dogs so much commotion.

After a pause, he replied to his husband, with a crooked smile on his lips.

“Honey, I think I saw a kitten.”

or

One day while walking home, Mark finds a stray cat and decides to feed it. The other day, a boy appears hanging from his tree in the backyard to escape the dogs.

Notes:

*sigh* look who's back... 🚬🚬🚬

the first chapter isn't my favorite, but...

I hope you like it anyway, I promise it will get better as goes along

*english is not my first language*

enjoy

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

 Ever since Mark developed an uncomfortable pain in his knee, he decided to walk to and from work. The jokes about him getting old stopped being funny and became a real concern when he noticed that he was getting lazier by the day.

 

 As the years passed, his muscles became less firm and his disposition was no longer the same as before. He feared growing old and becoming the kind of owner who just watched his dogs play, without the energy to keep up with them.

 

 It was a silly thought, perhaps.

 

 His husband, Fernando, loved to play on this concern. He always made a point of showing off his 'youth' and good health, stretching his arms and stretching his body in an exaggerated way while saying with a smug smile: 'A few years make all the difference, cariño. You should have followed my example and never stopped exercising for real.'

 

 Mark just rolled his eyes, knowing that Fernando was just saying that to provoke him. But deep down, he had a point. That's why the Australian made an effort to at least maintain this simple habit of walking. And he doesn't work too far from home, which is a privilege.

 

 He walked down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, feeling the cold night wind blow through the city. Work hadn't been as exhausting as other days, but his mind was still stuck on small worries.

 

 When Mark stopped to look around before crossing the street, he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. He was sure that when he got home and was greeted at the door by his two labradors, he would smell the delicious smell of dinner cooking. But a slight twinge of headache told him he couldn’t wait that long.

 

 He takes a quick break at a small diner he always sees along the way, then buys a sandwich, something practical to settle his stomach for the rest of the way.

 

 As he took his first few bites, he heard a faint, almost imperceptible sound coming from a nearby alley. Mark stopped walking and stood still so he could listen again. For a moment he thought he might have imagined it, but the sound repeated itself and it didn't take long for the man to realize it was a meow.

 

 The meow came again, timid and hesitant. It was only because he paid attention that he was able to identify the source: next to an old trash can, leaning against the worn brick wall, a small orange cat was watching him.

 

 He was thin, with dirty orange fur, and his eyes, large and golden, seemed to be silently pleading.

 

 Mark's heart sank when he saw him. It was hard to ignore that look, full of an innocence that also carried a silent but not invisible pain.

 

 For a moment, he wondered how many people had walked past the cat without even noticing. Mark felt guilty that he had almost been one of those people.

 

 He approached slowly, crouching down so as not to scare him. The cat meowed again, this time a little louder, as if it had understood that the man was not a threat.

 

 Mark looked at the sandwich in his hands and sighed.

 

“I was hungry too. Let’s share, okay?”

 

 He broke the sandwich in half, handing a piece to the kitten.

 

 The cat hesitated for a second, perhaps suspicious, but the smell of food overcame his caution. He lunged forward, devouring the piece of sandwich with a voracity that made Mark wonder how long it had been since he had eaten something decent.

 

 As the cat ate, the Australian reached out slowly to pet it. The animal stopped eating for a moment, looking at him with alert eyes, but then relaxed and began to purr softly. It rubbed its head against Mark's hand, thanking him in the only way it knew how.

 

 The man smiled, running his fingers through the orange fur, feeling the roughness and dirt of the street embedded in it, but he didn't care, content listening to the purring increase.

 

 When his knees could no longer support his weight in that position, Mark let out a long sigh and stood up, stretching. The cat looked down at him, eyes alert.

 

“Take care of yourself, okay? I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you” he murmured, still smiling.

 

 The cat let out another weak meow, as if in response.

 

 Mark hesitated before walking away, giving the little animal one last look. When he started walking again, he didn't notice that the orange cat was looking at him, with that sweet and grateful look that was etched in the man's memory.

 

 When Mark unlocked the front door and walked in, he didn't have a second of peace before he was attacked.

 

 But not by anything dangerous, but by his two huge labradors, who ran towards him as if the man had been away for years. The dogs were too big to be so hasty, and soon they were bumping into him, sticking their noses into his clothes and sniffing every corner of him with tireless energy.

 

“Hey! Hey! Give me a chance to breathe.” Mark tried to step inside, but Sammy spun around him so fast he nearly tripped him. Simba stuck his nose in the hem of his pants and sniffed exaggeratedly, as if he had encountered an otherworldly scent.

 

 The man laughed, unable to stay angry with the two. He tried to push the two dogs’ giant heads away as he walked towards the kitchen, but Sammy and Simba were too excited and followed him determinedly. “Didn’t anyone take you two for a walk today?”

 

 Following the aroma of dinner being ready, Mark found Fernando finishing setting the table. His husband looked at him with a wry smile before leaning over and giving him a light kiss, having heard the Australian's entire struggle to get there.

 

“As soon as I got home from work, I took them for a walk. Sammy saw a squirrel, so I had to drag them back. You took a while to get home, you could have taken advantage and taken them out too” Fernando commented, his eyes focused on the labradors, who were still trying to decipher the strange scent on Mark. “What did you do? Why are they sniffing you so much?”

 

 Mark sighed and leaned against the counter.

 

“I found a hungry cat and stopped to feed him a little” he explained simply.

 

 Fernando raised his eyebrows.

 

“And why didn’t you bring him home?”

 

 The Australian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he just looked at the two labradors who were still agitated, sniffing and circling around him. Fernando watched the scene for a few seconds before laughing again, understanding.

 

 When they decided to have a puppy, the Spaniard had the first impression that there wouldn't be much to worry about. A few years later, they felt that Simba was too lonely, so they brought Sammy home. He had seen several videos of labradors playing with each other and figured they would be perfect to make their house a home.

 

 However, as the years went by, he also realized that dogs could grow bigger than he imagined and took their role as guards of the yard very seriously.

 

 For owners of smaller animals (especially cats), Mark and Fernando's home was practically off-limits territory to approach with their adorable pets.

 

 Whenever Simba and Sammy were outside and caught the scent of a furry intruder, they would not rest until they had chased it away. No cat dared to come near the lawn, those that tried to cross the fence were soon greeted with barking and a chase that made them never want to return.

 

 This, unfortunately, put an end to Fernando's dream of having a cat. He loves his two giant, idiotic dogs, but he misses having a cute little furball that can lie on his lap in the afternoon without suffocating him with its weight.

 

 During dinner, as the two men talked, pieces of food inevitably fell to the floor. Sammy and Simba, alert, took advantage of any crumbs that were given to them. Their butts slapped against the furniture in pure happiness, reflecting their enormous satisfaction with the lifestyle they had. Later Mark and Fernando will snuggle together on the sofa and the dogs will lie at their feet to receive a delicious rub on their full bellies.

 

 If someone asks, they would certainly answer that they lack nothing.

 

***

 

 The next night, after dinner, Fernando started drying the dishes to help and keep his husband company while the other washed the dishes. Beforehand, the Spaniard had opened the back door and let his dogs out, which is not his custom, but after Sammy jumped in and stole the steak from Mark's plate in an unfortunate moment of distraction, he thought it would be better to let them go to the grass than to dirty his floor.

 

 It's the Australian's turn to choose the movie they're going to watch before bed, and Fernando is trying to convince him not to choose the same old movie. It was a common scene in their routine, the kind of thing that made life comfortable and predictable.

 

 But then, the barking started.

 

 At first, Fernando ignores it, continuing his arguments that he is the one who suffers from Mark's movie choices, since the Australian falls asleep before halfway through and he is the one who watches the movie until the end. The Australian argues that he can watch something else after he accidentally falls asleep, but Fernando is stubborn and wants the two of them to watch a good movie together.

 

 The barking continued and became more insistent.

 

 Mark glanced out the window and frowned.

 

“Why are they barking so much? Did they see another squirrel?”

 

“Hm… I don’t think so. Maybe that neighbor’s cat is back” Fernando says.

 

“Impossible, no cat has the courage to come near our house after the last time” Mark said, convinced, but he leaned over to look out the window and understand what had caused so much agitation in his dogs.

 

 After a pause, he answered his husband, a crooked smile on his lips.

 

“Honey, I think I saw a kitten.”

 

 Fernando raised his eyebrows, curious about the tone the man used. The moment he looked at the yard, his eyes widened in surprise.

 

 It wasn't a cat.

 

 It's a boy.

 

 A boy, maybe ten years old, was clinging to one of the lower branches of the tree in the backyard, his feet dangling in the air as Sammy and Simba barked intensely at him, circling the base of the tree as if they were about to attack. The boy looked down, scared, holding on as best he could to avoid falling straight into the dogs.

 

 The dogs have never been aggressive toward people, much less children. They enjoy having greasy hands in their fur if it means getting a good scratch behind the ear. But for some strange reason, the labradors seemed determined to exclude the boy from this treatment and to cause as much terror as possible, in the same way they treat cats.

 

 When Mark and Fernando realize that the unknown boy trapped in their tree is not safe, and that their friendly dogs have decided to show their teeth in a threatening manner, they exchange exasperated looks before reacting and running outside.

 

“Sammy! Simba! Get out of there now!” Mark shouted, already running towards the tree.

 

 The labradors continued barking loudly and jumping, opening their mouths and almost trapping the boy's foot in their teeth. Fernando didn't think twice before acting.

 

“I’ll take care of the boy, you get them out of here!”

 

 The Australian nodded, dodging and heading straight for the dogs. He grabbed both of their collars and used all his strength to pull them back, feeling their resistance.

 

“Bad boys! Very bad!” he scolded seriously as he dragged the two towards the garage. He never imagined he would use that tone with his big pups. “How embarrassing!”

 

 Meanwhile, Fernando stood with his arms open, looking at the boy with the calmest expression possible.

 

“Hey, niño, it’s okay now” he said softly. “The dogs are gone. You can come down easy, I’ll hold you.”

 

 The boy, however, seemed hesitant. His eyes were still wide with fear, his fingers gripping the branch tightly.

 

“Are… are you sure?” his voice came out shaky, tearful.

 

 Fernando assured, keeping his voice calm. “I promise. Now I need you to get down so you don’t get hurt, okay?” He opened his arms wider, showing his intention. “I won’t let you fall.”

 

 The boy looked at him, sniffing a few times. Perhaps because he was less suspicious, he relaxed enough to release one hand from the branch.

 

“Very good” the man encouraged.

 

 Then the boy completely let go of the branch, falling straight into Fernando's arms. However, as he didn't expect the boy to give in so quickly, the Spaniard staggered back a little before holding him tightly.

 

 The instant he was caught, the boy clung to him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder.

 

 Fernando felt his weight against his body and hugged him, instinctively squeezing him against him, feeling how fragile and small his body was. He tried not to react when he realized how thin the boy was, even though he was feeling his strength drain away because of it.

 

“Let’s go in, okay?” he said softly.

 

 The boy didn't respond, still holding on to the Spanish man as if his life depended on it.

 

 Inside the house, under the warm light of the kitchen, Mark and Fernando could finally see the boy more clearly.

 

 He was small, with messy hair and a wary expression, as if he were always ready to run away. His clothes were worn, dirty in places, and his shoes looked too old to protect his feet from the night's cold.

 

 The two men's gazes met for a brief moment, without needing to exchange words, Fernando went to the fridge to heat up what was left of dinner while Mark pulled up a chair and sat next to the boy.

 

 Analyzing the body language of the man next to him, the boy quickly defends himself, as if he fears being punished for a misunderstanding. “I didn’t come to steal anything!”

 

 Well, it's something to think about as to why an unknown boy appeared in their backyard in the middle of the night. Mark was shocked to hear that, preferring to divert the subject to show that he is not making accusations.

 

“What’s your name, buddy?” he asked in a low, careful voice, as if he were handling a skittish animal. “My name is Mark, and his name is Fernando.” He pointed a finger at the other man in the kitchen.

 

 The boy hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting from Mark to Fernando, before answering.

 

“Oscar” he blinked, lowering his chin as he looked down at Mark.

 

 The Australian frowned, feeling a strange sensation in his chest, as if he had seen those eyes before. But no matter how much he tried to pull it from memory, nothing concrete came to mind.

 

“And where do you live, Oscar?” Fernando asked, trying to sound casual, as he placed a plate of warmed food in front of the boy.

 

 The boy stares at the food with interest, leaning forward and sniffing the plate before muttering, “Nearby.”

 

 He doesn't elaborate further than that.

 

 Mark and Fernando exchanged a quick glance. Something was wrong, but they didn't press the issue. The most important thing now was to let him eat.

 

 Oscar devoured his food in a hurry, but with calculated movements, as if he was used to protecting his meal. The two men couldn't help but notice his behavior.

 

 His eyes were always alert, analyzing every detail of the environment around him. His movements were fluid, but at the same time hesitant, as if he were ready to flee at any moment. He didn't even touch the spoon, preferring to use his fingers to hold small pieces of food before putting them in his mouth.

 

 It was as if Oscar was deciding whether to trust them or not.

 

 When he finished eating, the boy wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at the two of them. If he was uncomfortable being watched the whole time he ate, he didn't show it.

 

“I… need to go.”

 

 Fernando frowned. “Are you sure? It’s late. We can take you home.”

 

 Oscar just shook his head, already preparing to get up.

 

 Mark felt a strange discomfort in his chest. He knew what that meant. He knew that if they let Oscar walk out that door now, they might never see him again.

 

 That was why, before the boy could take the first step outside, the Australian said casually, “If you want, you can come back here another day.”

 

 Oscar blinked, looking surprised by the offer.

 

 Fernando smiled, pleased with his husband’s quick thinking. “Sure. You can come and have dinner with us if you want. Any day.”

 

 The boy hesitated, looking at the two as if trying to understand what they really wanted from this. In the end, he just nodded slowly.

 

“Ok”

 

 Mark and Fernando watched as he disappeared down the sidewalk.

 

“Did you feel that too?” the Australian asked when they were alone.

 

 The other man sighed, crossing his arms. “That he’s a homeless?”

 

“Not just that” he ran a hand over his face. “I felt like… I knew him from somewhere.”

 

“You know a lot of people” he arched an eyebrow.

 

 Mark shook his head, still trying to understand his own hunch.

 

“If he comes back, maybe we can find out.” Fernando placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

 

 The silence that followed was short-lived.

 

 A loud, impatient bark echoed through the house, followed by another, and then another, until it became a chaotic symphony of anxious dogs.

 

 They both let out a long sigh.

 

“They better not think we’re going to let them sleep in our room tonight, those two are in serious trouble” Mark said.

 

“Don’t say that about our children, they are our serious problems” Fernando’s voice shows compassion, but at the same time, he seems to be amused by his husband’s ‘serious father’ attitude.

 

“Then I’ll confiscate their favorite toy!” the Australian replied, forcing his voice to sound deeper and angrier. “They’re lucky no one got hurt.”

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Notes:

I didn't mention this before but there will be a new chapter every week!

enjoyy

 Fernando didn't usually complain about carrying bags, but he always went overboard with his shopping. His initial plan was to just buy a few items from the local market, but when he saw the sales and remembered things that 'would be nice to have at home', he ended up leaving with more than he expected.

 

 He can't walk fast, let alone massage his shoulders when his muscles tense up. When he finally get home, he will no longer be able to bear the pain and will need an ice pack.

 

 Despite the discomfort, the Spaniard manages to laugh a little as he imagines Mark's voice in the back of his head: 'Who's old now?'

 

 His thoughts are interrupted by the soft sound of a meow.

 

 Fernando stopped and looked to the side, finding an orange cat sitting on the sidewalk, watching him with attentive eyes.

 

 The man smiles, forgetting for a moment the regret of not having driven to the market.

 

“Hello, little friend” he observes the cat’s appearance, connecting it with the description his husband gave of the stray cat he saw the other day. His chest hurts as if a nail had been stuck in it, realizing that the animal must be hungry, but he has nothing to offer. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any food for you right now.”

 

 Without caring about it, the cat simply approaches him. Fernando feels the small, furry body rubbing against his legs, the tail wagging slightly.

 

 He bends down as low as he can without letting the bags fall, unable to resist the urge to pet the animal.

 

“You’re adorable” he cooed.

 

 The cat purred and rubbed its head against his hand.

 

“Aw, it was great meeting you too, but you better not follow me. I have two boys at home who are troublemakers.” The man feels a vague sense of loss as he stops petting the cat and stands up, but he suppresses the feeling inside himself.

 

 Fernando continues walking, feeling that frustration of tiredness growing inside him again. There is no one on the street, which creates the illusion that maybe this way he will get home faster without any other interruptions along the way.

 

 However, his ears identify light footsteps approaching. The Spanish man turns his head and looks suspiciously over his shoulder, being surprised by the presence of someone he did not imagine he would see so soon.

 

“Oscar?”

 

 The boy has a neutral expression, wearing the same clothes as last night. He blinks his eyes a few times before pointing to the bags and asking shyly.

 

“Can I help you carry some bags, Mr. Fernando?”

 

 Fernando blinked in surprise, wanting to laugh at the boy's politeness. But he resisted it, imagining that Oscar wanted to somehow repay the free food from last night.

 

“Yes, please. And you don’t have to call me ‘Mr’. Fernando is fine.”

 

 Oscar nodded, extending his thin arms and taking the number of bags offered to him.

 

 As they walked together, the man felt a slight uneasiness. He couldn't help but feel a growing concern as he observed how heavy the bags seemed in the boy's hands.

 

 Oscar didn't complain. His face showed no sign of tiredness or effort, but Fernando wasn't naive.

 

 Oscar’s frame was too thin, his bony shoulders hidden beneath worn clothes. He didn’t want the boy to feel weak, but he couldn’t help but want to quicken his pace, eager to get home and relieve Oscar of the weight of the shopping.

 

 So he did just that. He quickened his pace, pretending as if he was just excited to get home. The boy followed him without hesitation, maintaining his careful and silent posture.

 

 When they stopped in front of the door, the Spaniard quickly asked Oscar to wait a little. Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and rushed inside, locking the dogs in the garage for safety. Sammy and Simba looked at him confused, not understanding why they were being isolated again. Could this be the new punishment every time they eat a slipper?

 

 When he returned to the front of the house, Fernando found Oscar still there, standing near the door as if he didn't know what to do next, staring at him.

 

“Well, thank you so much for helping me, Oscar. Walking home left me tired and hungry, don’t you want to join me for a snack?” he offers with a smile, but leaves a space between him and the door for the boy to pass through as if to encourage him to say yes.

 

 Oscar hesitated.

 

 His eyes avoided direct contact, he seemed to ponder the proposal, embarrassed.

 

 Fernando waited patiently, without pressuring him.

 

 After a few seconds, Oscar nodded his head in a discreet gesture of agreement.

 

***

 

“Where is Mark?”

 

 Fernando looked up and smiled slightly.

 

“Working. But he will arrive soon.”

 

 The kitchen was silent except for the soft sounds of the two eating. Oscar seemed more excited as he ate, the man couldn't help but smile at the satisfied glint in his eyes.

 

“Did you like it? Sandwiches are my specialty” Fernando commented casually, taking a sip of the juice.

 

 The boy nodded quickly, with a gleam of recognition. “It’s delicious” he said after chewing.

 

 Fernando watched him for a moment, noticing that Oscar's hair was a little tangled, looking dirty and disheveled. The boy didn't smell bad, but he clearly needed a proper bath.

 

“Hey, do you mind if I wash your hair?” he asked suddenly, giving an embarrassed smile. The satisfaction of feeding the boy’s stomach wasn’t enough, it would take time for him to regain an ideal weight, so the man felt he needed to do more for him.

 

 He doesn't know if there is a person somewhere who cares, so he prefers to make sure that before the boy leaves, Oscar is better than when he arrived.

 

 Oscar stopped chewing, his eyes widening.

 

 For a moment, he seemed too surprised to react, but then he looked away and shrugged, wanting to appear indifferent.

 

"I think so"

 

 The response was hesitant, but not negative. He was uncomfortable with the idea, but not enough to refuse it.

 

 So, without further ado, Fernando smiled and stood up, began to open the cabinets, looking for the items he would need. Oscar sat at the table, watching him carefully, as if he was still trying to understand what exactly he had just accepted.

 

***

 

 The bathroom was warm and steamy, the soft scent of shampoo hanging in the air. Fernando was kneeling beside the tub, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his fingers sinking into Oscar’s damp strands, massaging his scalp gently.

 

 At first, the boy seemed hesitant. When he saw the full bathtub, his expression was one of pure discomfort. Fernando almost laughed, thinking that the resemblance to a suspicious cat was undeniable. But, like a cat that gives in to affection after a while, Oscar eventually relaxed.

 

 The Spaniard spoke occasionally, asking small questions, but soon found his answers were getting slower. Oscar blinked slowly, his head tilting slightly into the touch, enjoying each careful movement.

 

 That warmed something inside the man. The trust the boy placed without saying a word was precious. He continued washing his hair, as if he was caring for something very fragile.

 

 Once he was done, he took a fluffy towel and gently rubbed the soaked strands, getting them as dry as possible.

 

“I’ll wash your clothes” he said, handing Oscar some clothes he thought would fit for now. The boy took the clothes without protest and the man left the bathroom, giving him privacy to get dressed.

 

 As he pressed the buttons on the washing machine, he heard a soft cry coming from the garage and recognized it as his Sammy. He didn't want to keep them locked up for so long, but he couldn't let them get near Oscar while he was alone.

 

 When Fernando returned, he saw Oscar sitting on the bathroom counter, his feet dangling slightly in the air, not reaching the floor. He didn't notice anyone approaching, he was watching something in the distance with a calm expression. Mark's old shirt on his small body made him look younger.

 

 Fernando stopped, watching.

 

 He felt an old anguish cross his chest. A thought he hadn't visited in a long time.

 

 What if, instead of choosing a dog, he and Mark had chosen to have a child?

 

 The Spaniard took a deep, loud breath, alerting his presence. Oscar looked at him with wide eyes before relaxing and jumping to the ground, staring as if waiting for further instruction.

 

 Fernando forced a smile.

 

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

 

***

 

 Mark walked into the house, letting out a heavy sigh as he hung his keys on the hook next to the door. His entire body was protesting with exhaustion; he couldn't handle the impact of two labradors jumping on him at the same time.

 

 But that didn't happen, which is strange.

 

 Normally, his dogs would be ready to tackle him to the ground in excitement. But there’s no sign of them. If Sammy and Simba are quiet, that’s a cause for concern.

 

 Frowning, he walked into the room, his steps slow and cautious.

 

 The scene he found on his sofa answered half of his questions.

 

 Fernando was watching an animated children's film, something colorful. Another unusual thing, but what really surprised him was the small figure sleeping next to his husband.

 

 Oscar was curled up, his head resting on Fernando's shoulder, breathing deeply and calmly.

 

 Mark blinked a few times, then whispered to the other man.

 

“What are you guys doing?”

 

 The Spaniard gave him a tired look and replied in an equally whispered voice. “Watching a movie. He falls asleep before the end just like you.” Carefully, he slid off the sofa, leaving Oscar sleeping, and gestured for Mark to follow him into the kitchen.

 

 Once they were alone and could talk a little louder, the Spaniard explained what had happened that day. Mark listened to everything in silence, occasionally glancing back into the living room. His chest tightened in sympathy as he watched his husband say how the boy seemed better and talked to him more after satisfying his empty stomach and putting on clean clothes.

 

 The situation they find themselves in is complicated, they undoubtedly know that Oscar is homeless but they don't want to embarrass the boy by addressing the issue directly. It's gratifying to see that he felt safe coming back a second time, like a stray cat. 'They always come back if you feed them.'

 

 At the same time, they cannot control Oscar and force him to live with them, which causes them extreme concern about where the boy is when they can't see him. They fear the situation will get out of their control if Oscar ends up trusting someone bad one day and gets hurt.

 

“Where are Sammy and Simba?” Mark asked.

 

 Fernando looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “In the garage.”

 

“Ah” he couldn’t hide a small smile. “So that’s why I wasn’t crushed at the door.”

 

 The two men's laughter was interrupted by the sound of some sniffling. They both realized at the same time that Oscar was standing in the kitchen entrance, watching them with an uncertain look.

 

 The boy said nothing for a few seconds, as if choosing his words carefully, until he finally murmured, “I need to go.”

 

 Fernando frowned, exchanging a quick glance with his husband. “Are you sure? It’s late. You can spend the night here if you want.”

 

 Mark nodded, leaning against the counter. “We have an extra room you can use.”

 

 But Oscar shook his head, a small, insistent smile on his lips.

 

“Thanks, but… I need to be somewhere.”

 

“Okay…” the Spaniard said reluctantly. “But you can come back whenever you want, okay?”

 

 The boy nodded. The Australian opened the door for him and watched as the boy walked away down the sidewalk, his gait calm and careful, until he disappeared into the street.

 

 Fernando sighed behind him. “I hope he’s okay.”

 

“He knows he can come back if he needs us” Mark replied, closing the door.

 

 Running his hands through his hair, the Spaniard remembered something important.

 

“The dogs”

 

 He walked to the garage and opened the door, expecting to find two labradors upset at having been cooped up for so long. But Sammy and Simba barely paid him any attention. Instead, they bolted out, pushing each other in the process, running in one direction.

 

“Where are you guys going?” Mark called, frowning as he watched them run into the laundry room.

 

 As they followed behind, they saw the two labradors sniffing intensely near the washing machine, where the clothes Oscar had left behind were still lying.

 

 Mark chuckled, crossing his arms while Fernando just watched the scene for a moment, a small smile playing on his face. This comforted him, he felt it wouldn't be long before the boy returned.

 

***

 

 The afternoon sun gently invaded the kitchen as Fernando finished washing the lunch dishes, he could still hear the echoes of Mark's voice trying to scold the dogs for pulling on their leashes too hard the moment he decided to take them for a walk.

 

 If the Australian wanted to take a nap before his soccer game started, and without having to worry about two rambunctious labradors, he needed to take them for a walk around the neighborhood. Or two walks. Three…

 

 A sound echoes from outside, a sound that is not strange, but is unusual to hear nearby due to the circumstances. So unexpected that it quickly catches Fernando's attention, he wipes his hands and leans forward to look out the window.

 

 There is an orange cat meowing in his yard.

 

 The man's eyes lit up when he recognized the animal, and he watched as the cat walked around casually, tail raised, looking around with an air of disinterest. This was probably the first time in many years that a cat had behaved like this within Webber-Alonso territory, and it must have been because the dogs were away.

 

 Fernando walks outside cautiously and observes the cat's reaction, expecting to be remembered. To his delight, the cat does not back away when he sees him approaching, but also approaches with a friendly meow, eyes half closed as if pleased to see him.

 

“Aww, you found out where I live and came to visit?” Fernando murmured, delighted.

 

 The cat responded with a soft, almost lazy meow, as if it was already used to having one-sided conversations with the Spaniard.

 

 Fernando's heart beat faster. To his satisfaction, the cat didn't look as thin as before, but it still wasn't enough to calm his worries. He also remembered that the last time they saw each other, he had nothing to offer.

 

 Without thinking twice, the man went back inside and looked for anything left over from lunch. He served some shredded chicken, proud to have something to reward his little friend with.

 

 When he turns around, he is surprised to see the cat sitting inside his kitchen, staring at him, curious and expectant, tail wagging. His calm patience is so different from Sammy and Simba, it makes the Spaniard want to laugh.

 

“Ah, so you already knew I was going to give you something?” Fernando smiled, his chest warm. He puts the plate on the floor and watches.

 

 The cat accepted the food with restrained enthusiasm. Unable to contain himself any longer, the man crouched down and carefully extended his hand. The animal noticed and watched with half-closed eyes as he ate, then leaned over, rubbing its head against his fingers.

 

 Fernando felt the soft fur under his palm, his body seemed to float. It was a very pleasant sensation. It was so different from a dog, it seemed more sensitive. Sammy likes it when he gets stroked a little harder against his fur and Simba likes it when Mark plays with trying to get something out of his mouth, with sudden jerks and pulls.

 

 But as he gently strokes the cat's fur, the Spanish man feels that the cat is too small and sensitive for that kind of thing. He was made to take lazy naps on someone's lap, not drag his humans around when they go for a walk.

 

 The purr came quickly, vibrating softly, the cat closed his eyes for a second, absorbing that sensation.

 

 Without realizing it, Fernando got carried away and thought that if he had a cat, if that cat were his, he would certainly take good care of the animal so that it would reach an acceptable weight, keep its vaccinations up to date, and invest in catnip because the videos on the internet are very funny.

 

“You two, wait for me!”

 

 The smile on the Spanish man's lips fell when he heard the sudden sound of the front door opening, followed by the familiar sound of collars jingling and the labradors' paws stomping excitedly on the floor.

 

 His heart raced. Mark came back with the dogs.

 

 Instinctively, he looked at the orange cat, who was watching him with half-closed eyes and a serene expression, oblivious to the imminent danger. Fernando felt an overwhelming protective impulse. He awkwardly picked up the cat in his arms, the animal allowed itself to be held, a little surprised, but without resistance.

 

 Fernando didn't have time to plan what to do when he heard the sound of paws speeding toward the kitchen. And then the two labradors appeared, ears pricked and tails wagging frantically, clearly smelling something different since the moment they returned home.

 

 Fernando froze, the cat nestled against his chest, his eyes wide with panic. The scene brought a strong sense of déjà vu, but before he could try to understand what this situation reminded him of, Mark appeared right behind the dogs, taking off his coat.

 

“Why did you run so desperately all the way here?” the Australian spoke to the dogs, frowning. Then he looked up and noticed what Sammy and Simba were staring at so intently: Fernando standing like a statue, holding a cat in his arms, both hostages to the predatory gaze of the two dogs.

 

 There is a long, silent pause. Mark moves his hands slowly to try to hold the labradors by the collar and Fernando wishes he was fast and strong enough. But suddenly the dogs lunge forward, escaping the Australian's reach.

 

“NO!” Mark exclaimed, alarmed, running towards them.

 

 Sammy and Simba launched themselves at Fernando with all the energy they had left after a long walk, their paws reaching up to try to reach the cat. Uncomfortable with all the commotion, the cat climbed up the Spanish man with surprising agility, lightly digging its claws into his shirt as it climbed up to his shoulders, balancing itself.

 

 The labradors jumped and sniffed wildly, their tails wagging so hard it sounded like whips. Fernando tried to keep his balance, with the cat practically glued to the side of his head, taking a few steps back.

 

“Mark! Do something!” he shouted, trying to push the dogs away with his knee, but without much success.

 

“Do you guys want to be grounded again?!” Mark said in a serious tone, as if he was talking to two hyperactive children, as he grabbed their leashes and pulled them back.

 

 Sammy and Simba paused for a second, looking at the Australian man with their heads tilted, recognizing the word 'grounded' and knowing that they didn't like being isolated inside the garage.

 

 Fernando, still with the cat clinging to his shoulders, took advantage of the moment to catch his lost breath.

 

 Staring at his husband, exhausted but relieved, Mark said in a tone of disbelief, “How did he find out where we live?”

 

“I don’t know…” the Spaniard sighed, glad that the sharp nails were no longer pinching against the fabric of his clothes. The cat was calm again, glad that the problem was solved, he even decided to give himself a bath while he was still on Fernando’s shoulders. “…But you need to take a picture while he’s on top of me like that. QUICK.”

 

 Shortly after the situation was considered under control and the dogs were spared punishment, the labradors lay down on the kitchen floor with their noses stretched out as far as possible towards the cat, who was surprisingly comfortable, purring loudly as he snuggled against the Spanish man's chest.

 

 He accepted the affection with a serenity that defied the idea of ​​him being a stray cat. Fernando's fingers glided gently through the soft fur as he observed the animal's relaxed face.

 

“Sometimes I feel bad just calling him ‘cat,’” commented, looking at his husband, who was sorting through all the chilled beers and snacks that he would leave at his disposal next to the armchair while he watched football.

 

“Yes…” Mark replied absently, alternating his attention between the food he was setting aside for himself and his dogs who were suspiciously well-behaved.

 

 The Spaniard smiled as the cat yawned. “I guess we should pick a name for him then.”

 

 Mark straightened up immediately, shaking his head firmly. “No, no way.”

 

 Fernando raised an eyebrow, surprised by the direct answer. "Why?"

 

 Sighing, the Australian gestured to the labradors still stretched out on the floor like rugs. “Because if we give him a name, it means he’s ours. And we can’t have a cat. Those two are unpredictable, accidents can happen…” He gestured vaguely, indicating the possible chaos that could ensue. Then he added, looking at his husband thoughtfully, “How do you know it’s a ‘he’ instead of a ‘she’? I’ve heard females are spoiled like that.”

 

 Fernando looked down at the cat in his arms, then moved one leg to the side and examined what was underneath. The cat opened its eyes wider, seeming more awake and less oblivious to the conversation between the two men. As if embarrassed, the cat closed its legs again.

 

“It’s ‘he’” the Spaniard said. Then he leaned in slightly and whispered to the cat, a smile on his lips. “Mark just doesn’t want to choose a name for you because he’s not creative enough.”

 

 Mark, who had gathered his things and was moving to leave the kitchen and had clearly heard the comment, widened his eyes and exclaimed indignantly. “Hey!”

 

 Fernando continued smiling, enjoying that light weight in his arms that he had dreamed of having one day. Even if that cat had a life unrelated to theirs, it was hard not to imagine what it would be like to see him fitting perfectly there.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Notes:

If you wondered if a person with the same name as me is on tumblr posting drawings of webbonso + oscar could be me, you're right. It's me, bravely sharing my doodles

enjoyyy

 The days passed at a silent pace, but a growing uneasiness settled in the minds of the two men when they realized they had not heard from Oscar in some time. The boy's absence slowly weighed on their thoughts, creating a worry they never imagined they would feel.

 

 Fernando also set aside some food in case the cat decided to come back, but the animal never showed up either.

 

 During the night, inside the dimly lit room, lit only by the dim light of the lamp on the bedside table, the Spanish man was lying on his side staring at the ceiling. Mark was inside the bathroom with the door open, finishing cleaning his ears with a cotton swab.

 

 The muffled sound of the two labradors breathing on the rug next to the bed filled the silence. They were curled up, fast asleep.

 

 After finishing his cleaning, Mark lay down next to his husband and turned towards him, resting his face on the curve of the pillow. The room was warm and comfortable, but it seemed that not even a glass of warm milk would make the Spaniard sleep without the invisible weight of a distressing shadow.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked, perhaps for the fourth time that day.

 

“Do you think Oscar is okay?” Fernando answered with another question, his voice low, almost a whisper. He’s said this before, today and in the days before, and every time he asks about Oscar it seems like he believes more and more that Mark will have an answer that will finally put his mind at ease.

 

 The Australian was silent for a moment, looking at his husband's face, before sighing softly.

 

“I believe so, he seems like a pretty self-sufficient boy” he tried to smile, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

 

 Fernando turned his head, looking at Mark with a skeptical look. “He’s just a boy.”

 

 Mark reached out, intertwining his fingers with Fernando’s over the sheet. The touch was comforting, familiar, safe. “Maybe he’s busy… or doesn’t want to bother us.”

 

“Or maybe he needs help and we don’t know” the Spaniard murmured, squeezing his husband’s hand lightly.

 

 Silence settled between them again, punctuated only by the sound of the dogs' slow breathing. Mark pulled the other man closer until they were hugging each other, his chin resting on Fernando's head. He rubbed his back and soothed him with calm words, while Fernando hugged him tightly and agreed with them all, knowing that the Australian was scared too.

 

***

 

 The morning began gray, with a light, lazy rain that gently tapped against the windows of the house. At first, it seemed like just one of those typical cloudy days, but as the hours passed the sky became darker and more overcast. The sound of the rain, once soft, became a constant and intense drumming, mixed with the howling of the wind that made the trees sway uneasily.

 

 By the time night fell, the rain had already turned into a raging storm.

 

 Lightning streaked across the sky in brief bursts of light, followed by thunder that made the windows shake. Simba and Sammy were nowhere to be seen, hiding in fear of the loud, frightening sound.

 

 Inside the house, Fernando stared at the window, watching the drops of water running down the glass in irregular trails, his mind far away. He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to push away the growing knot of anxiety in his chest.

 

 Mark, who had not said a word until then as he flipped through the channels on the TV, suddenly stood up with a sudden movement. Still silent, he began to put on a coat, his movements quick and determined. He grabbed his umbrella and car keys in a firm gesture and walked determinedly to the door that led to the garage.

 

 The Spanish man watched all of this with a confused look, when he noticed that his husband intended to go outside he ran after his heels to stop him. “What are you thinking? What are you going to do?”

 

 Looking over his shoulder, Mark replied, “I’m going to look for Oscar, I don’t want to find out he’s been swallowed up by the storm.”

 

 Fernando stopped walking, watching the other man open the car door and carelessly throw the umbrella inside. Those words hit him harder than he imagined; they didn't need to talk about it to understand that they were both equally concerned about climate change.

 

“Wait” he said, using his authoritative voice, then turned around without waiting for a reaction and searched the house for clean, soft towels. He brought more than he needed, but he didn’t care, if there was a wet and cold boy somewhere he needed to have a way to get him a little dry before bringing him home.

 

 Mark raised his eyebrows when he saw the amount of towels his husband brought, but didn't say anything until he noticed the Spaniard getting into the car next.

 

“You don’t need to-”

 

“I want to go with you.” A mixture of fear and an overwhelming impulse would not allow him to let Mark go alone. “I’ll go with you.”

 

 His gaze left no room for arguments. It's not just Oscar's safety he's worried about, but his husband's as well. Going out in these conditions is not appropriate, much less alone.

 

 The Australian just nodded, then got into the car. They didn't know where to start looking, they were guided by a feeling that spoke louder.

 

 The car moved slowly along the soaked streets, its headlights struggling against the thick curtain of rain that fell relentlessly. The sound of the windshield wipers was in rhythm with Mark's racing heart as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the murky road. Fernando kept a watchful eye on the passenger side, turning his head from side to side, trying to see something, anything.

 

“Can you see that?” the Spaniard asked suddenly, pointing to an indistinct shadow.

 

 Mark squinted. “It’s just a plastic bag being blown around in the wind.”

 

“Ah…” his shoulders slumped dejectedly again. He thought it might be the cat.

 

 The silence returned, now heavier than ever. They continued driving for what seemed like an interminable time, with each minute increasing uncertainty. Hope, once a thin thread, seemed about to snap.

 

 However, as Mark turned a familiar corner, he spotted the same alley where he had found the orange cat weeks earlier. Something inside him screamed at him to stop the car. Without thinking, he slammed on the brakes.

 

 Fernando was startled and turned to him. “What happened?” he asked, confused, looking around, trying to see whatever had caught his husband’s attention.

 

 Mark didn’t answer. He simply opened the car door and got out, ignoring the umbrella thrown into the backseat. The rain hit him like a wall of icy water, but he didn’t care. The Spaniard shouted after him, but his words were lost in the rain.

 

 He entered the dark alley, guided by an impulse he could not explain. His steps sank into puddles of dirty water, he could barely see a few meters ahead. But then he saw a pile of unmade cardboard boxes, soaked and sunk in the mud. Something seemed wrong.

 

 He quickly approached, his heart pounding so loudly that it seemed to compete with the sound of the thunder battle in the sky.

 

 Crouching down, Mark began removing the boxes with shaking hands, his cold, wet fingers gripping the heavy, torn cardboard. And then he saw him.

 

 Oscar.

 

 The boy was huddled under the boxes, his body shaking violently, his eyes closed, and his face pale, streaked with dirt and water. His clothes were stuck to his fragile skin, and he looked so small that Mark's chest tightened with unbearable pain.

 

 Mark held out his hands, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Oscar…”

 

 Without thinking, he carefully pulled him into his arms, hugging the cold, wet body against his chest, protecting him from the rain with his own body. That was when he heard Fernando's hurried footsteps running towards him.

 

 The umbrella nearly flew out of his hands in the strong wind. Cold water ran down his face, soaking his clothes as he shouted, his voice mixing with the sound of the rain.

 

“Are you crazy?!”

 

 But he stopped abruptly when he saw Mark kneeling, with something in his arms. Fernando's stomach dropped and he felt breathless when he realized it was Oscar. The boy was still, his body trembling slightly, his eyes closed with an expression of exhaustion and pain.

 

 The Spaniard approached and protected the three with the umbrella, then carefully brushed the wet hair from Oscar's forehead. He tried to call him softly, trying hard not to let his true emotions show in his voice.

 

“Oscar… Oscar, can you hear me? Do you know who I am?”

 

 But the boy did not answer, his lips were pale and cracked, he looked far away, lost somewhere between consciousness and emptiness.

 

 Mark didn’t wait any longer. “We need to go back, now” he said urgently.

 

 They ran back to the car, Fernando quickly opening the door as Mark climbed in carefully, holding Oscar tightly. Fernando tossed the umbrella aside and rushed to get behind the wheel.

 

 Mark grabbed some towels and started wrapping Oscar in them, trying to dry him and keep him as warm as possible. The boy was shivering non-stop, the Australian could feel the intense heat on his skin.

 

“He has a fever” he said, his voice breaking.

 

 Fernando gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as he tried to remain calm. Fear threatened to overwhelm him, but he took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat once more.

 

 His mind went back to those destroyed cardboard boxes, the miserable shelter where Oscar had probably spent all those days alone.

 

“The only thing left for us to do is take care of him then.”

 

***

 

 Fernando sat silently in a chair next to the boy's bed the entire night, his gaze fixed.

 

 Oscar looked even smaller in that bed, his fragile body curled up in on himself, as if trying to disappear under the covers. His breathing was irregular, the man kept one hand lightly on the boy's forehead, feeling the heat of the fever that still didn't subside.

 

 As soon as they got home, he and Mark had acted almost automatically. They had carefully removed Oscar’s soaked clothes, replacing them with dry, warm ones. They had wrapped him in soft blankets, trying to ward off the chill that seemed to have seeped into the boy’s bones.

 

 At first, Oscar barely reacted. His eyes remained closed, and the lack of response made Fernando's heart sink. But after much insistence, Mark managed to get him to accept small spoonfuls of warm soup and a few sips of water. When Oscar finally swallowed the medicine, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted from their shoulders.

 

 Time dragged on and the Spanish man stood there, motionless, monitoring every breath, every slightest movement. It was as if the world was confined to that small space, anything outside either didn't exist or didn't matter.

 

 Mark could easily see how the situation was affecting his husband, and he was concerned. Fernando usually worries more than necessary when Simba and Sammy need to go to the vet. He denies any accusations about this, saying that it is the Australian who likes the labradors the most, but he does not hide how much he cares for his two furry monsters.

 

 The dogs are the children they never had, and that's why they are spoiled enough. So seeing Fernando hover over a sick Oscar with that same look of a father who doesn't have a son, leaves Mark worried about what's going on inside his husband's head at that moment.

 

“Nurse Alonso, your shift is over. You need to rest, I’ll take care of our patient now” Mark called softly, entering the guest room. In a low voice, he added, wanting to convey some reassurance, “If his condition worsens, I’ll let you know immediately. I promise.”

 

 But Fernando shook his head reluctantly, not taking his eyes off the pale face on the bed. Sighing, the Australian man took a few steps closer and looked at Oscar as he tried again to convince his husband, a firm but caring hand on his shoulder.

 

“Eat something and take a nap, Oscar will need you to be healthy when he gets better. Please, Nando.”

 

 Fernando hesitated, but Mark's gentle tone and the tiredness that was beginning to weigh heavily on his own eyes convinced him, even if reluctantly. He stood up and walked out of the room, not before kissing his husband on the lips and feeling the comfort that only the Australian could offer.

 

 So the Australian took up the position of watching over the boy, in silence. The bitter taste in his mouth grew stronger every time he saw Oscar wince as the tremors shook his frail body. The fever seemed to envelop him with a dark naturalness.

 

 Mark could hear Fernando’s footsteps echoing through the house, the muffled sound of his voice talking to the dogs, warning them sternly that they should not go near the guest room. For a brief moment, he thought his husband had finally gone to sleep for a while. The silence that followed seemed to confirm it, and Mark let his shoulders relax.

 

 Time passed slowly, and then Mark decided to get up and get a thicker pair of socks from the closet, something that could help warm Oscar's cold feet. However, when he returned, he stopped at the door and let out a disgruntled sigh when he saw that his husband had not gone to rest as he had promised.

 

 Fernando was there again, standing beside the bed, his hand resting on the boy's warm forehead.

 

 The Australian took a few steps into the room, forcing a tired smile as he spoke in a tone of voice that was both playful and serious at the same time. “I thought we already talked about playing doctor without me, Nando.”

 

 Fernando’s response was dry, full of tension. “His fever has gone up.”

 

 The words hit like a punch. Without wasting any time, the Australian dropped his socks on the bed and quickly left the room, announcing that he was going to get a thermometer.

 

 His husband followed, his voice lower and more urgent. “If he gets worse…” he began, his voice breaking for a moment before regaining its firmness. “If his condition worsens, we need to get him to the hospital.”

 

 Mark just nodded, finding the thermometer he was looking for in the first aid kit. It is extremely important that they monitor the boy as the hours go by, every second that passes will be a cruel test of how resilient Oscar can be.

 

 As they were about to return to the room, they stopped abruptly when they came across the two labradors, who had been warned countless times not to approach the boy, were inside the room, silent and attentive to the small body curled up on the bed.

 

 Fernando's heart raced, he took a step forward, ready to throw them out of there, but before he could do so he felt Mark's firm hand on his shoulder.

 

“Wait…” he muttered, his brows furrowed in concentration. “Look.”

 

 Then the two noticed, more attentively, that the boy was more awake. The dogs stared at Oscar with the same intensity that Oscar stared at them, they seemed to know a secret that neither Mark nor Fernando knew.

 

 No one made a move until Simba and Sammy began to whimper softly. Slowly, they crept closer to the bed and rested their heads on the mattress, right next to Oscar, sniffing softly and wagging their tails. It was as if, somehow, they were worried about the boy too, sensing his fragility.

 

 Mark took a deep breath and walked closer, pushing the labradors aside. He checked the temperature with the thermometer, confirming what he had already feared.

 

“His fever has gone up” he added, his voice hoarse. “I’ll wait a little longer until I can give him his medicine again, and in the meantime I’ll use some damp towels.”

 

 Fernando moved his foot, ready to prepare the towels, but the Australian's voice held him in place.

 

“And you’re going to get some sleep” just as the Spaniard had said before, there was no room to argue against it. “I’ll take care of him until dawn.”

 

 The look he had made Fernando swallow his words. With a resigned sigh, he approached the bed, gently stroking Oscar's head one last time before turning to leave the room.

 

 As he left the room, followed by the two dogs, he grumbled softly at them. “So this is how you feel when we kick you out of the room?”

 

 The sentence brought a genuine smile to Mark's face, he sat down again and made himself comfortable to wait and monitor the boy, after all, there was nothing he could do until the next hour.

 

***

 

 The two men took turns at Oscar's bedside, paying close attention to every change in his breathing. When the fever seemed to break, they took the opportunity to feed him small portions of soup, patiently encouraging the boy to eat, even if it was just a little. The medicine was administered carefully, the damp towels helped control the heat that insisted on not leaving the younger's body.

 

 Simba and Sammy hovered close, despite their humans' warnings. With each grimace of pain the boy made, the dogs whimpered softly and ran to fetch a toy for Oscar to throw for them to fetch again. This usually makes children smile, so the labradors wanted to help in any way they could so that the boy their owners were caring for would be well again.

 

 Days passed, and when Monday arrived, Mark and Fernando claimed a family problem that they needed to resolve, and so they missed work. Under no circumstances would they leave Oscar alone, and neither of them wanted to be away if they needed help with something.

 

 Over time, the boy began to become more responsive, waking for longer periods, exchanging shy words. His responses were still short, but they already carried a little more life.

 

 It was on a sunny morning, after days of incessant rain, that Oscar woke up with a healthier face. He was able to sit up in bed on his own, supported by the pillows. The couple could not hide their happiness at seeing this long-awaited improvement.

 

 As a reward for good behavior and a quick recovery, they brought a fresh chocolate cake into the room, placing it in front of Oscar with proud smiles.

 

“You definitely deserve this after being so strong” Fernando said, winking at him.

 

“After eating so much soup, I think so too…” Mark added, receiving an elbow from his husband at his side.

 

 Oscar stared at the cake with wide eyes, as if he couldn't believe that after being sick in bed for a few days he would receive such delicious food. The moment the plate was placed in front of him, he felt silly and sad that he still couldn't smell the delicious aroma that the cake should have.

 

 Holding the fork, his hands still trembling, he took a bite and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Even though he was recovering from his illness, he could still taste it, so he used this time to memorize the sensations, as if he was rediscovering what it was like to be able to eat a piece of cake.

 

 Immediately when his brain registered and recognized the taste of chocolate, Oscar felt an urgency to not leave a single crumb on his plate.

 

“It’s been a long time…” he said between pauses in his chewing, “…since I’ve eaten this.”

 

 Mark and Fernando watched in silence, afraid to blink and miss something very valuable. When Oscar finished eating, there were chocolate stains around his mouth, on his chin, and even a little on the tip of his nose. He didn't seem to understand, or if he did, he didn't care.

 

 There was genuine satisfaction on his face, and it made the Spanish man's chest ache. The other man also stood still for a moment and, just like Fernando, felt an impact of tenderness and sadness at the realization that a simple chocolate cake had brought back an old memory in the boy's mind, which reminded him that he was a child and could behave like one.

 

 After a moment of comfortable silence, Oscar put his fork aside and looked at the two of them. His gaze seemed lighter, but there was something melancholic, still hidden within that shield that protected him.

 

"Thanks..."

 

 It's more than gratitude, it's an acknowledgement of the comfort that that simple gesture had provided.

 

 Fernando swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in his chest grow. He remembered the fact that Oscar is a homeless kid, alone and vulnerable. He and Mark wanted to talk to him about it, but they were afraid that it would make Oscar retreat even deeper into his shell and never come out again.

 

 Mark smiled, a little excited glint in his eyes, then replied, “You’re welcome here whenever you want. I’d say the door is always open, but if that happens Simba and Sammy will terrorize the neighborhood.”

 

 Oscar laughed, lowering his gaze to look at the labradors. It seems that there is a peace agreement between them, whatever made the dogs want to chew on the boy as if he were a cat no one really knows, maybe.

 

“But you’re not 100% yet, so you better keep resting to eat another one of these” Fernando said, approaching to take the empty plate from the boy’s lap. He took advantage of the approach and wiped what little chocolate he could manage from his face.

 

 Mark watched the scene in silence, but the expression on his face was far from calm. There was something in the way Fernando looked at Oscar that moved him in a way that was hard to explain. It was as if he were looking through a window into a life he never had.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Notes:

this is the moment in the fanfic where I just want to explode

enjoy

 To the relief of both men, Oscar began to wake up feeling more vigorous each day. The boy stayed with them for a while longer, long enough for his fever to go away, his appetite to return, and for him to laugh a little at the two dogs being scolded for wanting to lick his face.

 

“No, you don’t even dare” Fernando scolded, gently pushing Sammy who was trying to climb into bed with Oscar.

 

“How many times do we have to tell that he can’t be crushed by you?” Mark crossed his arms, pretending to look stern. Simba and Sammy stared at him with their heads tilted to the side, as if to say with their eyes, ‘But he’s perfect to play with us!’

 

 Oscar laughed, looking at the two labradors with a calmer look. Simba looked at him when he heard that sound and rested his head on the mattress, wagging his tail quickly and sniffing his wet nose a little. The boy's hand soon moved and stroked the top of the dog's head, then it seemed like a button had been pressed as the tail began to move faster. Oscar is not familiar with dogs, but this gesture was so spontaneous that it seemed like the fear of being attacked by one of them never existed.

 

 It would have been nice to stay there, but then, as if Oscar himself had realized that he was starting to relax too much, he shooed away whatever was trying to convince him to stay a few more days with that kind couple. The next day, he woke up with a decision.

 

 Sitting together at the breakfast table, Oscar stared at the clock on the wall anxiously, as if the sound of the hands moving was a stressful reminder of what he was about to say.

 

“I... I have to go…”

 

 Fernando froze as he was about to pour the coffee into his mug, Mark bit his tongue as he chewed on a piece of toast. Neither of them should have been surprised, but somehow they were.

 

“Now?” the Australian asked, brushing away some crumbs that had fallen onto his clothes.

 

“You’re still recovering…” Even if he tried to argue, the Spanish man knew he couldn’t stop him. He thought time had passed too quickly and now the boy would run out the door before he could talk to him about his not-so-secret secret.

 

 Oscar's fingers twitch beneath the table. Unable to make eye contact with the two men, he repeats that he needs to go home.

 

 Mark's jaw clenches, cardboard boxes are not the ideal thing to call a home, which after the storm no longer exists. And the worst part is that he doesn't know to what extent Oscar believed they knew the truth.

 

 The boy never confirmed anything. But he also never tried to make up an elaborate lie. He just avoided the subject, as if he was afraid of what might happen if Mark or Fernando said the precarious situation he lives in out loud.

 

 Oscar knew where he had been found, knew they had probably noticed. But he didn't want to discuss it.

 

 The Australian almost opened his mouth and said that he wasn't going to play this game anymore, that waiting for any sign or news that the boy was okay was terrible and that they could help him with what he needed, or find someone who could help, but then his eyes met Oscar's.

 

 Deep down, behind the shame, there was gratitude. Silent, discreet, but present. The kind that is expressed in the moment when there is nothing more that can be done to improve, but that does not detract from the previous effort. It is the kind of look that a stray animal stares back at, saying without words, 'So you can see me? Thank you.'

 

 Mark let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair.

 

“Ok…” he said, adding in a parental tone. “But you’ve just recovered from something serious, so we want to hear from you as soon as possible to make sure you’re getting better.”

 

 Fernando nodded. “Yes. And if you think you’ve gotten sick again, don’t hesitate to tell us.”

 

 Oscar looked between the two men and didn't respond for several seconds, as if he was considering whether he should listen to their request or not. There was no reason to be so suspicious; up until now, he hadn't had to question whether their actions were malice disguised as kindness. He believed they were good people, which is why the guilt hurt his stomach more than hunger.

 

 Last time he promised he wouldn't come back, but it seems like there's something pushing him back every time. Oscar is delaying the inevitable, he must say he won't come back. He can no longer enjoy their good hearts.

 

 The boy held his breath.

 

“I’ll be back” he said. Then he saw, almost immediately, the relief in the men’s eyes, the smiles that came effortlessly, as if that simple promise was enough to comfort them.

 

 But the boy knew he shouldn't give them that expectation.

 

***

 

 A few days later, Fernando found some time to fix some problems around the house. More specifically, the kitchen sink plumbing, which Mark had been complaining about for days.

 

 The Spaniard can do the dishes without any problems, but if Mark is complaining that the sink is 'vomiting' on him, then it means he needs to get out his toolbox and get his hands dirty to make his husband happy.

 

 As he knelt there, focused on tightening a stubborn piece of pipe, he heard Mark's voice echoing from the living room.

 

“Oh, hello!” he cooed, then added, “Nando, the cat’s back!”

 

 Fernando stopped for a moment, feeling a pang of happiness. It had been a long time since he had seen the kitten.

 

“I think we have chicken to feed him!” he exclaimed back and continued his work, listening to his husband talking to himself.

 

“Lucky for you my boys aren’t around. Uh, what’s that in your mouth? Did you get a toy?”

 

 Mark's puzzled tone made the Spaniard frown, but before he could even get up to look, a thunderous and not at all masculine scream echoed through the house.

 

 Fernando dropped his tools and ran into the living room in pure despair, only to find Mark paralyzed, staring at the orange cat sitting proudly on the rug... with a dead mouse in its mouth.

 

 It took a few seconds for his heartbeat to return to normal, then, after understanding the situation, the Spaniard began to laugh out loud.

 

“That’s not funny!” the older man scolded, looking disgustedly at the small animal trapped between the cat’s teeth, which was blinking slowly and calmly. He was afraid that the cat would open its mouth and reveal that the mouse was actually alive and ready to hide somewhere unreachable.

 

 Fernando was still laughing, approaching his husband. “Mark, he’s not doing anything wrong.”

 

“There’s a mouse in my living room, Nando” he recalled, as if his discomfort wasn’t already obvious.

 

“Yes, I know. But it’s not bad, he caught the mouse for you. It’s a way of saying that he’s grateful for you or… that he thinks you’re not very good at getting your own food” he explained, remembering something he once read on the internet. He doesn’t know if it’s completely true, but he prefers to believe it.

 

 Mark is still making that face he makes when he doesn't like something, the same face he used to say the kitchen sink 'throws up' on him. The explanation doesn't reassure him.

 

 He looks at the cat, who is completely indifferent to his crisis, wondering if the animal must be expecting some praise. After all, he hunted and worked hard to get that mouse… If the Australian can share his food, then it makes sense to return the favor.

 

“Uh…” he said, feeling his breakfast do a funny dance inside his stomach. “Thanks for the gift…”

 

“Now hold the mouse” Fernando encouraged, a devilish smile on his lips.

 

“Shut up.” Mark gritted his teeth.

 

 The men were relieved when they realized that the cat had no intention of leaving after delivering the gift, their furry friend followed them around the house with every step they took with his tail held high, as if he was confident of the space.

 

 Mark was apprehensive about throwing the dead mouse in the trash and having the cat see it, he felt it would hurt the cat's feelings, so he asked Fernando to feed him in the kitchen to distract him.

 

 When he returns, he catches his husband talking to the cat sitting on the table. He thinks about making a comment. After all, if dogs aren't allowed to put their paws on the table, why should a cat take a bath there? It's unhygienic.

 

 But Fernando looks so happy, talking softly to the cat who licks his paw and nods his head as if he understands and agrees with every word the Spanish man says. Fernando is apologizing for not buying cat food yet, as if he should have, but the orange cat doesn't seem bothered. He licks his chicken-stained whiskers contentedly.

 

 So Mark doesn't say anything, he just smiles as he approaches. As if a simple mention in their thoughts was enough to attract them, soon the loud sound of a rhythm of 8 legs running in the direction where they probably smelled a visitor was heard.

 

 The cat predictably notices the change in presence in the kitchen, so it stops licking itself and looks around with a naive and curious look.

 

 Sammy and Simba quickly glanced past their humans as they came in from the hallway and froze for a brief moment as they noticed the intruder at the table. There is a short pause of anticipation as no one is sure what to do first, but then, to the surprise of both men, the labradors' tails begin to move in an excited rhythm.

 

 Full of excitement, the dogs tried to approach, but before one of them could jump and put his paws on the table, the cat growled low, firm enough to serve as a warning.

 

 Then the dogs backed up a little and lay down on the floor, their heads raised and their noses sniffing the air vigorously. Maybe they've gotten used to the smell around the house and on their humans, so they've decided the cat isn't a chew toy, Mark thinks. But it's also curious to think that they haven't had much contact with the cat for this to happen, it's the first time they've been staring at each other without having to separate them before something worse could happen.

 

 The cat meows, then goes back to licking his paws. Simba whimpers, wanting to get closer, but manages to contain his excitement. It's as if they've understood that the orange cat is a more sensitive animal and they can't just play aggressively with him. Which, again, is strange, since they haven't had proper training to deal with cats. The only improvement the labradors have shown in the last week is behaving without stressing or hurting Oscar.

 

 They must have understood that the cat is as sensitive as Oscar, since his humans are always very cautious, and somehow attached to information.

 

“You guys are very smart” Fernando praises, genuinely impressed with how quickly they learned considering their constant stubbornness.

 

 The dogs briefly offer a glance at the Spanish man, having the advantage of knowing something they don't yet.

 

 Without any interest in leaving, the cat continued to keep them company for the rest of the day. Mark and Fernando dealt with it more naturally now that there was no risk of leaving the dogs outside the garage, and the presence of a new animal did not cause anything drastic or detrimental to their routine.

 

 The labradors, however, kept their eyes on the kitten. They hovered nearby, stared intently, wagged their tails slowly, always seeming to wait for some kind of permission, some sign that they could play with him.

 

 It wasn't just their dogs' unusually good behavior that surprised the couple. As time went on, the cat complained less about Sammy's attempts to approach him and, without hesitation, licked Sammy's nose when he got too close. Mark laughed out loud and complained that he hadn't recorded the moment, as Sammy jumped back with his ears pricked when he discovered that the cat's tongue was rough.

 

 Simba became jealous and wanted to feel it too, shamelessly offering his nose.

 

 Just before dinner, Fernando made himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room and used the remote control to lazily change the channels, not really having any interest in what to watch.

 

 On the other side, the Australian didn't have so much peace when he wanted to relax on the sofa. The two huge labradors tried to settle on his lap at the same time, each one fighting for space as if they were little puppies, stepping on his sore thighs with their big paws.

 

“Aaaargh!” he grunted, throwing his head back at the smell of the dogs’ breath. “Come on, boys. You haven’t even brushed your teeth!”

 

 Fernando laughed out loud, but then he was confused by a soft weight on his lap. He looked down and saw the cat, looking at him and blinking slowly. Thanks to this contact between them, the Spanish man realized how small and warm the cat was, a little bigger than a kitten. Despite this, its body was firm, he could feel it through the small paws pressing against his thighs.

 

 The cat also makes itself comfortable, stretching one last time before closing its eyes and surrendering to a nap right there.

 

 A wave of heat spread through Fernando's chest. He looked up, looking for Mark, wanting to confirm that he was seeing it too. His husband was already looking. And he was smiling softly, even though Sammy was breathing with his mouth open right in front of his face.

 

 Lowering his gaze again, the Spaniard allowed himself to enjoy it, it was exactly what he had always wanted. He ran his fingers through the animal's soft fur, feeling its calm and steady breathing. The cat was not as thin as before.

 

 Because he was being taken care of by them.

 

 Fernando smiled, feeling genuine happiness.

 

 Looking at the sleeping cat on his husband's lap, the Australian couldn't help but have a curious thought.

 

“I think a cat is the kind of animal that suits Oscar, they have a similar energy.” He pushed Simba’s head to the side, so the dog stopped breathing against his face. “These dogs are very agitated and big, that’s why he’s afraid.”

 

 The Spaniard nodded, thinking how similar the boy and the cat might be. “It would be interesting if they met someday, maybe then Oscar would visit us more often.”

 

 Then he turned his attention back to the cat on his lap and stroked its fur some more, noticing how the animal's ears moved slightly during that conversation. He seemed to have shown a brief moment of recognition, but he maintained his calm posture, pretending not to have heard anything.

 

 It was almost as if the cat knew exactly what they were talking about.

 

 And was disguising.

 

***

 

 Fernando was smart enough not to make the same mistake twice. This time he drove to the supermarket with an updated shopping list. The temperature had dropped in recent days and he didn't want to face a cold wind while carrying heavy bags. Why can't he ever make a short list?

 

 On his way back, he saw a silhouette walking down the sidewalk in the same direction. His eyes instantly fixed on the person walking with hunched shoulders, hiding his scarf-less neck.

 

 Although he wasn't wearing clothes appropriate for the temperature, Fernando could tell that somehow the boy had managed to get better clothes than the ones he had been wearing last time.

 

 Without hesitation, the Spaniard pulled the car up to the curb and slowed down. Without waiting for the window to roll down completely, he exclaimed.

 

“Hi, Oscar!”

 

 The boy jumps slightly in fright and turns his head, craning his neck to see who was calling him. His steps stop and then he turns his body to face the man completely after recognizing the warm smile.

 

“Uh… Hi, Fernando” he replies, burying his hands between his armpits to warm them up.

 

 Fernando couldn't help but look him up and down, bothered by his discomfort. Keeping his tone of voice cheerful, he continued the conversation. "What are you doing?"

 

 Oscar looks away and wrinkles his nose slightly, as if he's embarrassed to admit something and look silly.

 

“I… I was going to your house.”

 

 The man felt his chest warm with the answer despite the icy wind that began to invade his car.

 

“What a coincidence, I was also going to my house” he said, unlocking the door. “Let’s go together.”

 

 The boy hesitated before accepting the offer, looking sideways. The Spanish man hopes that no one sees this as a kidnapping, it is indeed quite suspicious…

 

“Okay” he finally accepted, then added with red cheeks. “Thank you.”

 

 As he placed the shopping bags he had bought at the supermarket in the back seat, picking up the cans of cat food he had accidentally dropped, Fernando turned on the heater to alleviate the cold that had set in.

 

 Oscar sat down next to him and turned his face to look at all the cans of cat food, it was at that moment that the man noticed for the first time a scratch on the boy's cheek. It didn't look that deep, but it was fresh enough that the skin was still red around it.

 

 Fernando frowned slightly, but didn’t comment. He shouldn’t speculate on the origin of this, but he suspected it was caused by some animal. Finally, he leaned over to help Oscar put on his seatbelt before continuing on his way back.

 

 With Mark at work, Fernando and Oscar were alone, accompanied only by the labradors who wandered curiously around the kitchen, sniffing the grocery bags while the man organized them in the cupboard.

 

 The boy helped by picking up the lighter items and putting them in the right place. He did everything with almost exaggerated care, as if he was afraid of making a mess. Sometimes he would turn his attention to the dogs.

 

 He still acted shy around them, but his curiosity to interact more was noticeable. When he believed he was not being observed, Oscar would reach out and run his fingers through Sammy or Simba's fur.

 

 Fernando watched this with a small smile.

 

 After the groceries were put away, he turned to the boy and noticed that he was still curled up into himself a little, even indoors.

 

“Hey, I can lend you some warmer clothes… if you want” he offered, trying to persuade the boy to accept.

 

 This time there was no hesitation and Oscar quickly accepted the offer, nodding his head. It was unclear whether it was because he could not resist much longer in the cold or whether he was more confident in accepting help from the Spanish man.

 

 Fernando felt something bubbling inside him when he saw him wearing his old clothes again. The sweatshirt was loose, almost swallowing his thin figure, and the hem of the pants was too long for his legs. Even so, Oscar looked up and smiled.

 

 The Spaniard swallowed hard and smiled back.

 

“It’s cold today, I was thinking about making popcorn and hot chocolate. Want to help?”

 

“Yes” the boy replied, with that genuine childish glint in his eyes. What child would refuse that?

 

 Fernando laughed softly. He couldn't deny how much he enjoyed having Oscar there.

 

 Hours later, Mark returned home and witnessed a scene he wouldn't mind getting used to seeing more often. The first thing he noticed was the smell of chocolate and popcorn in the air. The room was warm, the television lit up the room with a serene glow in the late afternoon.

 

 On the sofa, Fernando and Oscar were sitting together, the labradors spread out on the rug. A blanket was wrapped around them both and the boy was curled up against the Spaniard, his eyes half closed in sleep as he held an empty mug in both hands. There was a small chocolate mustache forming on his upper lip that Mark couldn't help but smile at.

 

 His husband had a calm expression, he held a bowl of popcorn in his lap and occasionally ate some. The Australian watched for a moment as he approached slowly so as not to raise any alarms, memorizing.

 

 Everything seemed to have become calm and distant.

 

“Hey…” greeted his husband, without raising his voice too much.

 

 The labradors wagged their tails when they saw him, but they were so content in their own space that they didn't even try to climb into his lap this time.

 

“Hey” the Spaniard replied, eating more popcorn. “I’m going to stop offering movie nights to you two, I’m the only one who can stay awake” he said with mock annoyance.

 

 Mark chuckled and turned to face the lazy smile on the boy's lips, quickly noticing the scratch on his face. Frowning, he instinctively raised his hand, leaning in a little to lightly touch the wound as he asked.

 

“Hey, buddy. What happened here?-”

 

 It was at that moment that everything changed.

 

 Oscar, who had seemed on the verge of sleep until then, woke up completely and recoiled as an immediate reflex, dodging Mark's touch. His eyes were wide, he flinched in a way that made the air suddenly heavy.

 

 Even Simba and Sammy raised their heads and assumed an alert posture, sniffing the air for whatever had caused this.

 

 The boy's reaction was so quick, so automatic, that for a moment no one knew what to say.

 

 Fernando looked between his husband and the boy, confused. Mark froze for a second, then slowly pulled his hand back, not wanting to cause more fear. Because that was what Oscar's eyes showed when he recoiled from the attempt to be touched, at this moment when he was most vulnerable: fear.

 

 Oscar blinked a few times, realizing what he had done. He opened his mouth, then closed it, before stuttering. “I’m sorry… I just… I thought you were going to…”

 

 During all the days they had known each other, there had never been a moment when the boy had backed away in this way or shown any fear of any aggression coming from the two men. Until then, there had been no reason for Oscar to be afraid of being hurt by them.

 

 Maybe someone tried to hurt him while he was away, which explains his current fear. It's not like the boy to act like a scaredy cat for no reason.

 

“I’m sorry, it’s not… uh, it’s not like that” he mumbled, fingers clenching on clothes that were too big for him. He wanted to explain, but he seemed too embarrassed to do so. “A cat did this to me, he wasn’t very nice and…”

 

 Mark took a deep breath, running his hand over his face, before finally saying something.

 

“Oscar… we need to talk.”

 

 The boy curled up into himself, never taking his eyes off the man.

 

“About what?”

 

 They couldn't wait any longer. If they didn't address the issue sooner or later, something worse could happen. Fernando bit his lip, holding back the urge to rest his hand on Oscar's shoulder. It's not the right time yet.

 

“We know your secret”

 

 Oscar stood still. His heart was pounding in his chest. Did they know? Did they really know? His mind began to work quickly in ways that would make his life not be ruined after this. Mark and Fernando are good people, they wouldn't tell anyone else, would they?

 

 The Australian leans in again, more cautiously this time. There’s no easy way to say this, but he’s as gentle as he can be. 

 

“We know you're homeless, Oscar.”

 

 There was a pause.

 

 The fear in Oscar’s eyes changed to something else, a faint relief, but still mixed with apprehension. He tried to hide the way his posture relaxed slightly at that confirmation.

 

 Mark and Fernando continued talking, explaining that they understood, that they didn't want him to continue in this inhumane situation.

 

“You don’t have to pretend you have a place to go anymore. You’re safe here.”

 

“We can help, we want to offer you whatever you need to have a normal life. We won’t interfere in anything you don’t want to tell us, we just want…” the Spaniard swallowed hard. “…you to be okay.”

 

 Oscar lowered his head. Something inside him twisted uncomfortably. He wanted to refuse. He needed to refuse. But there was something sweet that made him feel tempted to accept.

 

 But he knew he shouldn't.

 

 He shouldn't have gone that far.

 

 He clenched his hands into fists, trying to convince himself that he couldn't form a bond with them. But when he looked up, they were still there. Waiting. Wanting to help him.

 

“We can start slowly” Fernando insisted, a tense smile on his lips that should have reassured him.

 

 The boy was silent, thinking. After what seemed like an eternity, he murmured, “Okay…”

 

 They didn't want to so blatantly show their excitement upon hearing that, but the couple couldn't control themselves and genuinely smile at each other.

 

“But first…” Oscar spoke again, not having the courage to face them. “I need to take care of something. But after that, I’ll be back.”

 

“Do you promise?” Fernando asked, feeling silly for demanding this from a child. But he needed to have a guarantee at the same time that he wanted to feel secure with the boy’s words.

 

 Oscar nodded.

 

"I promise"

 

 Before Oscar left, Fernando approached and straightened his wrinkled clothes, almost as a natural reflex.

 

“Be careful, okay? We’ll be waiting for you to solve what you need” Mark says, standing next to the door, smiling but with a tightness in his chest to let the boy go.

 

 Fernando rested his hands on Oscar's shoulders for a while longer, looking at his face carefully. He hoped that the scratch on the boy's face would be the last bruise he would see for a long time.

 

 Unable to resist his impulses, the Spaniard leans in and kisses the boy's forehead quickly. He felt that if he didn't do this before Oscar left, he would never have the chance again.

 

 The next day, Mark and Fernando waited for him to return.

 

 And the next day too.

 

 And in the other.

 

 And in the other.

 

 And in the other.

 

 But Oscar didn't come back.

Notes:

oscar didn't lie, a cat really did make that wound on his face

but he lied about something else? I didn't notice...

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Notes:

tw: near death of animal

“We should call the police”

 

 Fernando rubbed his face with his hands, exhausted. “To say what? That a homeless boy has disappeared? Do you think they’ll care?”

 

 Mark frowned, dissatisfied. “But he’s a kid. That should matter, right?”

 

“Yes…” the Spaniard agreed, his jaw clenched. “But think about what the police will think when we explain the situation: a homeless kid has disappeared after two grown men offered him shelter. Doesn’t that seem suspicious to you?”

 

 Tension hung in the air as the two men sat in the room, filled with frustration and worry.

 

 The Australian leaned forward, pressing his elbows on his knees. He knew his story could be misinterpreted and it would hinder his intentions to help Oscar.

 

“Maybe we scared him” he said after a while, his voice guilty. He tried his best not to make the boy feel any insecure, but people are capable of doing horrible things even with a kind smile on their face, so maybe his words weren’t confident enough to reassure Oscar. “Maybe he thought we were trying to trap him?”

 

“But he said he would come back” Fernando muttered. “It seemed like he really wanted to come back.”

 

 He's right, it really seemed like what the boy wanted most was to accept the offer and stay with them. Why change his mind?

 

 Not accepting that his doubts would continue to grow without any guarantee that the answers would ever come, Mark took a deep breath and stood up, determined.

 

“We can’t just wait here. I’ll go out in the car and look for him, he can’t have gone far.”

 

 Fernando watched him for a moment before nodding. “Then I’ll stay and wait in case he decides to come back while you’re not here.”

 

“I’ll call you if I find out anything” he said, grabbing his coat and keys from a hook on the wall.

 

 Mark left the house with unwavering determination, he would not return without an answer. The city passed by in a blur as he drove, as his intuition strongly guided him to the alley where he had found the boy during the storm.

 

 The thought of finding him living among cardboard boxes again angered him deeply, the man had to take a deep breath, controlling his emotions. He didn't want Oscar to see any sign of frustration or anger. He didn't want to scare him even more.

 

 When he reached the alley, his stomach turned. He didn't like the effect this place had on him, as if something bad would happen every time he went back there. Everything was quiet, cold and empty. No sign of Oscar. He looked around, his eyes scanning every corner, hoping to find any trace of the boy.

 

 His hope and motivation diminished, he bet all his chips that he would find what he was looking for there. Mark was about to leave when a movement near a trash can caught his attention. He frowned as he recognized the small figure huddled there.

 

 The cat. But he didn't look well. The man's heart raced. Something was wrong. The cat didn't react to his approach as it usually did. He didn't raise his head, didn't meow, didn't show any recognition that there was someone else with him in that disgusting alley.

 

 Mark crouched down, the closer he got the more he realized that the animal looked terribly ill.

 

 Then his eyes fell on something near the cat. A partially eaten piece of meat.

 

 Fear chilled his spine.

 

 Someone had poisoned the cat.

 

 Mark still needed to find Oscar, but at that moment, saving the cat's life was his priority. He didn't feel guilty about it.

 

 The Australian drove quickly through the streets, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly as his gaze darted desperately between the road and the unconscious cat in the seat next to him. The small orange body rose and fell with shallow, irregular breaths. With each passing second, Mark wondered if it was already too late.

 

 He reached out a trembling hand and grabbed his cell phone, quickly dialing Fernando's number.

 

 The other man answered on the second ring, his voice exasperated, asking questions that Mark didn't let him finish.

 

“No, I didn’t find Oscar. But I found the cat…” he said, his voice shaking. He didn’t know how to say it without sounding like he was about to cry. “He’s dying, Nando. He’s been poisoned. I’m taking him to the vet now.”

 

 There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, as if Fernando was processing the information.

 

“What?” his voice came out low, shocked. “Dios mío…”

 

 The elder swallowed, his eyes quickly returning to the motionless cat beside him.

 

“Listen. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

 

 The Spaniard took a while to respond again. “Ok, call me as soon as you can.”

 

 Mark hung up and stuffed his phone back into his coat pocket. When he saw the sign for the veterinary clinic where he always took his dogs, he parked and got out of the car in a hurry, picking up the cat as carefully as he could.

 

 He hurried into the reception, his heart pounding against his chest.

 

“I need help, now!” his voice came out loud, distressed.

 

 The receptionist, who recognized Mark as a regular customer, quickly stood up when she saw him holding the limp cat in his arms.

 

“Let’s get him inside!” she said, already calling one of the vets.

 

 The Australian handed the cat over to the staff and stood in the reception area, his chest rising and falling with rapid breathing. He ran his hands over his face, trying to calm the storm inside him as he found a place to sit. The fear of losing the cat mixed with a growing anger. He hoped it wasn’t too late.

 

 Time in the reception seemed to drag on as if it were trapped in a dimension of its own. He checked his watch a few times, but the minutes ticked by cruelly slowly. The surroundings seemed distant.

 

 When the vet in charge of the cat finally showed up, Mark felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. The man was a few years older than him, and he wasn’t smiling. His face was calm, but the lack of any expression of relief made the Australian swallow hard.

 

“You did well to bring him here” the vet began, but that sentence only confirmed everyone’s worst fears. “But the poison was already advanced when you arrived.”

 

 Mark took a deep breath, feeling his chest tighten. “Will… will he survive?”

 

 The vet sighed, crossing his arms. “The cat is still a kitten and has been living on the streets, which means his system is already weakened. But we are monitoring him. He will spend the night here, under observation, and we will do our best to stabilize him until morning.”

 

 The Australian closed his eyes for a second, trying to control the anger bubbling inside him. Someone had done this. Someone had the evil to poison food and leave it there for a starving animal.

 

“Sons of…” he stopped before finishing the sentence, pressing his lips into a thin line.

 

 The elder gave him an understanding look.

 

“I understand your frustration” he said. “But right now the best thing you can do is go home and rest. Come back in the morning, and we’ll see how he is.”

 

 Mark nodded slowly, feeling exhausted. He didn’t insist, didn’t ask any more questions. He just turned and left, feeling as if his head was filled with a thick fog.

 

 He drove back home on autopilot. He only realized when he pulled into the garage that he hadn't called or texted his husband since arriving at the clinic.

 

 When he entered the house, the living room was filled with a strange silence. The dogs were lying quietly, their ears lowered, as if they sensed someone else's unhappiness. On the sofa, Fernando's figure was what caught Mark's attention; it seemed like the other man hadn't left the room since he last saw him.

 

 His eyes were red and wet. He had been crying.

 

 Mark approached cautiously, his voice low. “They’ll try to save him. In the morning, we can check on him.”

 

 Fernando didn't answer. He simply stood up, crossed the small space between them, and buried his face against his husband's chest. Soon Mark closed his eyes and held him tightly, letting himself sink into that moment. It was only then, when he felt Fernando's shaky breath against him, that he realized he was crying too.

 

 They wanted to end that day with Oscar coming home, but they ended it with the realization that they could lose the orange kitten as well.

 

***

 

 Fernando entered the clinic feeling his heart heavy in his chest. He decided to go in Mark's place to check on the kitten, but his courage gradually faded as the realization that he would see an injured animal.

 

 When he saw the cat, he let out an unconscious sigh. Every instinct within him begged him to get the poor animal out of that situation.

 

 Somehow the cat seemed to have lost a bit of weight since he had last seen him, his breathing was shallow and his fur was no longer as shiny as before. The Spanish man doesn't know if the cat looks better or worse than when his husband found it, but surely, if he were in Mark's place, he would have doubted that it was still alive.

 

 That is not the same cat he knew. The cat did not move when he approached. Did not show any recognition, he just remained motionless and absent from the world.

 

“Oh, gatito…” Fernando murmured, leaning forward. His eyes were too dry to cry again, but maybe it wasn’t impossible that a few tears would rebel. “What happened to you?”

 

 The man raised his hand and with such great delicacy, in the same way that one would touch the wings of a butterfly, he ran his fingers over the cat's head, stroking it gently.

 

“You don’t have to be afraid alone, okay? I’m here now” he whispered, watching his breath move the cat’s thin whiskers. “I won’t leave you.”

 

 He hated the feeling that if he used too much force to stroke the fur, would be able to push the life out of the little body. So the Spanish are gentle, affectionate.

 

 They stood there, just the two of them in that cold, sterile room, listening to the muffled sounds of other people and animals inside the building. Fernando was sure that he loved that cat and would do everything he could to cure him of all the pain he had accumulated throughout his short life. He knew that it would take time, that it would be more difficult than easy, and that the desired result might not be achieved either.

 

 But if there's one thing Fernando has learned since he said yes to Mark on their wedding day, it's that love means patience. It's knowing that if you love something or someone then you can wait as long as it takes. Waiting for someone means that you care, that you love them.

 

 He loves this cat, and will wait until he recovers. He also loves Oscar, so he will wait until he can see the boy again.

 

 Suddenly, the man sees an almost imperceptible movement out of the corner of his eye. He waits, and when it happens again, Fernando holds his breath.

 

 The cat's tail moved.

 

“Can you understand me? Do you know who I am?” he whispered, his voice cracking. Maybe being alone made him feel less silly talking to an animal; usually only his husband and those close to him saw this side of him.

 

 The cat did not move any other muscles, but its tail twitched as a sign of life enough to comfort the Spanish man. Hearing the voice of someone he recognized made him want to show that he was still conscious.

 

 The veterinarian in charge came in shortly after, not realizing he had interrupted something.

 

“He’s stable, thankfully, but he still needs time to recover.” His lip curled slightly, as if remembering the unpleasant state the kitten had come into his care in. He paused, then spoke again. “And, well, since he’s a stray, we can find a shelter that can take him in during these critical days—”

 

“No” Fernando interrupted, his voice firm. “He’s going with me.”

 

 The vet looked at him with a mixture of surprise and hesitation.

 

“You have two very energetic labradors, right? That won’t be a problem?”

 

 Fernando looked again at the little cat lying there, so vulnerable. He thought of all the times the cat had followed him around the house excitedly and meowed happily before receiving any food. He thought of Sammy and Simba trying to get his attention, as if they were willing to learn to be less clumsy for him. He thought of his cute purr, how his face looks funny when he yawns, how any time seems to be the right time to take a bath and how Mark is very jealous, and hides it very badly, every time the cat chooses to sleep on Fernando's lap.

 

 Fernando thinks about the tail that moved seconds ago.

 

“He’s already part of our family, of course it won’t be a problem.” His answer came with all the certainty in the world.

 

***

 

 As he drove home, Fernando glanced at the cat carrier on the seat next to him. Maybe he should have talked to Mark before making this decision. They always discussed these things beforehand. He sighed, but he didn’t regret it.

 

 He couldn't hide the carrier when he entered the house, his husband immediately noticed it when he saw him enter the living room. He raised a finger and pointed.

 

“What is this, Nando?”

 

 Fernando didn't answer right away. He walked carefully over to his husband and set the cat carrier down on the coffee table. Mark narrowed his eyes, peering into the carrier and knowing for sure that his husband had brought the cat home. Without any warning for him to prepare.

 

“Nando…”

 

“Surprise!” the Spanish man said, holding Mark’s gaze with a humble expression. “I adopted a cat.”

 

 Mark sighed heavily, running his hand over the back of his neck and looking back at the cat in the carrier. The animal didn't look back at him, looking too tired and determined to take a nap. Then the man let out a soft laugh through his nose and looked back at his husband.

 

“I knew this would happen”

 

 The days passed, and Fernando and Mark dedicated themselves completely to taking care of the cat's health.

 

 They made sure he took his prescribed medication, monitored his diet, and kept him warm. Little by little, the kitten's improvement became more and more visible.

 

 Still, there was the absence of someone that was hard to ignore.

 

 No matter how much they went out to look for him, no matter how many places he could be, the boy seemed to have completely disappeared. Frustration accompanied them daily, discouragement hit hard, but never enough to make them give up.

 

 Meanwhile, the cat became a permanent part of the house. Pampered by Fernando and Mark, he received treats, affection and attention at all times.

 

 One day, the Australian man was left to take care of the cat alone. He didn’t have the same skill as his husband when it came to holding the cat, so he did it in a somewhat awkward way, trying to find a comfortable position for both of them. The cat, however, didn’t protest. He just let himself stay in Mark’s arms while he slowly stroked him.

 

“Why is your body so soft?” the man complained, unsure if he was doing it incorrectly. “You feel like you’re going to slip out of my hands every time.”

 

 A low purr was the only response he received.

 

 Mark smiled, satisfied. “We can make Nando feel jealous like that, what do you think? Let’s pretend you like me more?”

 

 The cat did not respond.

 

 The man’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, I know he’s your favorite, I won’t insist” he continued the one-sided conversation, noting how contentedly the cat purred as he began to scratch behind his ear. “Not so different from a dog… Oh! Now that you’re going to live here, we can choose a name for you.”

 

 For a moment he was thoughtful. The cat opened its eyes and stared at him in that familiar way that reminded Mark of…

 

“Ah!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly, noticing that the cat’s ears had moved back. “Sorry. But I had an idea, your name will be Oscar. Because it’s the name of someone we care a lot about. Or we can adapt it so as not to confuse anyone, you’ll be Oscat. How about that?” he wiggled his eyebrows in a funny way. “Oscat. I want to see Nando say that I’m not creative when it comes to choosing names, Simba and Sammy never complained.”

 

 Despite the cheerful tone, the man soon feels a little melancholy thinking that the real Oscar would have laughed at that.

 

 The cat's body visibly tensed for a moment, but soon relaxed again, purring softly again.

 

 Mark continued to pet him, but he couldn't help but notice that the cat's eyes looked strangely sad.

 

 Days later, the cat began walking around the house confidently, following the two humans wherever they went. If they closed a door, he would go there and persistently scratch at the wood until they let him in. Soon after he did the same, wanting to leave.

 

 However, the labradors were still too big and clumsy to notice his presence all the time, and he was often knocked over by their excited races. Still, the dogs always returned shortly afterward, licking the cat devotedly, as if apologizing for their agitation.

 

 The house has adapted since he became an official member of the family. In addition to the bags of dog food in the cupboard, there were now also packets of cat food. They also had to seal off the cat’s litter box after noticing the labradors’ disgusting interest in feces.

 

 One ordinary night, while they were in the kitchen serving food to the animals, Fernando frowned when he realized that the cat had not shown up for the meal.

 

“See if he’s sleeping in our bed again” he asked Mark, who readily agreed.

 

 However, as he searched the house, the Australian began to feel a strange discomfort. The cat was not in any of the places it usually was. When he returned to the kitchen, his worried gaze met his husband's.

 

“I can’t find him”

 

 The two began searching the entire house, calling urgently for the cat. They knew he was still a recovering animal, so the idea that something bad had happened was enough to send them into a panic.

 

 When he went out to search the yard, the Spanish man stopped abruptly when he saw the silhouette of the cat perched on the lowest branch of the tree in the yard.

 

“Thank God. Mark! He’s here!” he called excitedly.

 

 Mark came quickly and sighed when he saw the cat safe and sound.

 

“Oscat, don’t you dare disappear like that again” he muttered, approaching the tree. “You can come down, I’ll get you.”

 

 But something was wrong.

 

 Oscat didn't come down. He just stared down at them, in a strange way that made the two men exchange worried glances.

 

 Then without any warning, he moved and jumped, disappearing behind the tree.

 

 Instinctively, Mark and Fernando rushed to catch him before he ran away again. But what they found on the other side made them freeze.

 

 Curled up on the floor, his eyes filled with tears, was Oscar.

 

 The boy was shaking, hugging his knees to his chest, his guilt-ridden gaze fixed on them. His lips trembled before he managed to say in a broken whisper,

 

“I'm sorry I deceived you for so long...”

Notes:

next chapter: oscar's pov

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

 You know when a cat has kittens and those kittens are distributed to other people to take care of? That's what happened to Oscar.

 

 He never knew his real mother or his siblings, but when he came to his senses he realized he was a kind old lady's kitten. And it didn't take long for her to discover what her precious Oscar was capable of.

 

 The neighbors saw the sweet old lady treating her cat the same way she treated her grandson who visited her sometimes, and they found it very strange that the two had the same name. In addition to being kind, the lady was also very concerned, therefore, she was afraid of anything that could be a risk to her grandson/cat.

 

 She said that there are people in the world who cannot know his secret, and they would take advantage if they found out. And Oscar could never get close to a dog, as they are animals born with the instinct to attack cats. This ingrained an irrational fear within Oscar, who judged everything around him as dangerous for both his human and cat forms.

 

 Unfortunately, the lady died before she could entrust her precious kitten to anyone, which resulted in Oscar having to live on the streets to survive. Some people came looking for the missing orange kitten and others questioned the lady's family members, but no one knew of the existence of any grandchildren.

 

 Most of the time he is a cat, it is easier to hide and his stomach does not require as much food, but he needs to be human sometimes too, which is worse because hunger is more painful.

 

 Some people feel more compassion when they see a boy begging for food, so he puts on his human face when the situation becomes too precarious. But it was his cat side that lured this man into his alley and made him give him half of his sandwich.

 

 After that, Oscar felt he could trust him and the other kind man who also showed concern for him.

 

 The problem is that Mark and Fernando don't know about his two identities, which causes the boy an immense feeling of guilt. He feels like he's taking advantage of their kindness, but he can't help it.

 

 He wants this, it's what he's always wanted: a home, security, comfort.

 

 So he comes back, sometimes as Oscar and sometimes as a cat, alternating between the two figures that men know and love. If he wanted, he could pretend to be a normal cat and live comfortably with them, but he knows that eventually they will miss Oscar. So, if he were Oscar, men would continue looking on the street for the cat they also became attached to.

 

 He can't be both.

 

 He promised several times never to visit them again, but when he remembered the hot, fresh food and the fact that he wouldn't have to sleep on the floor there, his resistance diminished. It was worse when Mark and Fernando asked him to stay, which he could refuse, but then they just had to make him promise to come back and Oscar couldn't refuse.

 

 He shouldn't have let them get so attached.

 

 It's his fault that his plan of just getting food got out of hand, now he has a responsibility that's too heavy to carry.

 

 For a few days he managed to avoid seeing them, thinking about how to say goodbye without breaking their hearts. Should he say goodbye at all? Or would that be worse? Should he say goodbye as a cat or as Oscar? Should he tell them the truth—no, they can't know.

 

 Eating that poisoned piece of meat was an accident.

 

 Oscar hadn't eaten since he left the two men's house, nothing he found in the trash cans was more appealing than the food Fernando and Mark cooked for him. It was a desperate moment, his stomach had probably forgotten how to handle going so long without eating after having a comfortable life again.

 

 That's why he ate that suspiciously offered piece of meat.

 

 After that, he doesn't remember much more than pain and guilt. Maybe it would be better this way, to end his short life in a tragic and cruel way. Not everyone is blessed by fate.

 

 But.

 

 His consciousness wavered a lot, Oscar was sure he was in a dream. He could hear the voice of the lady who had taken care of him since he was a kitten, so he was sure he was in heaven or something.

 

 But he found it strange that some senses were still working, because he could smell Mark. It seemed like the man was sad, but Oscar doesn't understand why the dream-Mark is sad. Thinking about him made him feel better, he loves him.

 

 After that he returns to a cold and uncomfortable place. He doesn't know how much time passes until he hears the first sound in a long time of lonely silence.

 

“You don’t have to be afraid alone, okay? I’m here now.”

 

 He knows that voice, Oscar loves that voice.

 

“I won’t leave you”

 

 Oscar knows this, he has trusted him since the day they met.

 

'I won’t let you fall' was what Fernando had said to him when he was stuck in that tree. And he had truly kept his promise. The moment he was caught, the boy clung to him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder. He knew he was telling the truth, he knew he was safe.

 

 Is Fernando here? Is he with Oscar now? Is Mark here too? He desperately wants to communicate, but he doesn't know how to control his body. His eyes see only a glare and nothing really makes sense. But he has to do something, he has to show that he is listening, that he trusts them.

 

 He can't hear anything else and becomes discouraged, thinking that he has failed miserably. However, hope returns when Oscar feels fingers caressing his head and a firm voice with a Spanish accent speaking to someone.

 

“He’s already part of our family, of course it won’t be a problem.”

 

 Family.

 

 Oscar goes home.

 

 Initially, he makes the decision to continue being a cat after he recovers. Deep down, he knows he has to tell the truth. That he has to admit everything.

 

 But he couldn't. Even after he had fully recovered, after he had the chance to explain himself, he decided that he would continue to just be the cat.

 

 Oscat. Mark is so funny.

 

 And for a while, it seemed like the right decision. Like a cat, Oscar could remain close to the two men without having to face the weight of his lie. Like a cat, he could avoid the difficult conversation he didn’t have the courage to have.

 

 However, the guilt did not diminish.

 

 On the contrary, the guilt grew.

 

 Because Oscar listened.

 

 He constantly heard Fernando and Mark lamenting the absence of the boy Oscar. He heard when Mark sighed as he looked at the door, or when Fernando stopped in front of the sofa, thoughtful, saying he wanted to know where the boy was. He heard the pain in the night whispers, when they thought no one could hear.

 

 Oscar couldn't stand living like this anymore.

 

 That night, he snuck into the backyard and waited for them to look for him. Deciding not to go back on his choice, he jumped behind the tree and transformed back into a boy.

 

 The shock was immediate.

 

“I'm sorry I deceived you for so long...”

 

 The silence that fell was long and suffocating.

 

 Then, to his surprise, both men fell to their knees before him without hesitation. Their arms wrapped tightly around him, and Oscar blinked in confusion, feeling them pull away only to pull their coats off their own bodies and cover his shoulders to protect him from the cold and, maybe, the embarrassment of not being dressed.

 

 He waited for screams. For anger. They must be furious, they had been deceived all this time. Oscar had taken advantage of their kindness.

 

 But all he felt were fingers stroking his hair.

 

 When he looked up, he found Mark and Fernando with tears of emotion in their eyes. They hugged him tighter, then responded with choked voices.

 

“You came home”

 

 They brought him into the house quickly, as if they were afraid he would disappear if they took a second longer. They helped him put on warm clothes and then sat together on the sofa to listen to the explanation.

 

 Oscar told everything.

 

 He explained about his life on the streets, about the need to hide, about how his ability to transform into a cat was his only way to survive. He said that he found out where they lived because he just wanted some food and a warm place to rest.

 

 And the two men listened to it all without interrupting, absorbing every word, every bit of truth he spilled.

 

 In the end, the boy lowered his head in shame and mumbled an apology. But Mark and Fernando refused to accept it.

 

“You did what you had to do to survive, Oscar” the Spaniard said firmly.

 

 The other man nodded. “We don’t want you to feel guilty. There’s nothing to forgive.”

 

 Oscar stared at them uncertainly. “But… I don’t know if I should stay. I don’t want my secret to be a problem.”

 

 Before he could say anything else, Fernando held his face with both hands, making him look directly at him.

 

“Oscar…” he smiled, his eyes shining “You are what we always wanted.”

 

“We’ll protect you” Mark added. “We understand why your granny said that to protect you, but not all humans will try to hurt you. As long as you’re with us, we’ll make sure you’re not afraid to be who you are. Oscar or Oscat.”

 

 Oscar blinked a few times, feeling the warmth take over his chest. He didn't have to think long before he was sure that this was where he belonged.

 

***

 

1 year later.

 

 Mark and Fernando never understood the meaning of having a piece of heaven on earth, but after their lives were turned upside down with the arrival of a different boy, the phrase finally made sense.

 

 Their family may seem strange to other people, after all, it's not very normal for their son to be able to turn into a cat whenever he wants. But they like to think that's what makes everything more special.

 

 The routine adjusted naturally, but of course there were still challenges. For example, hiding Oscar's secret from other people, dealing with his habit of climbing into unreachable places, and, most difficult of all, cutting his nails.

 

 That afternoon, Fernando was sitting on the sofa with Oscar on his lap, holding one of his hands tightly as he cut his nails.

 

“I didn’t know having a cat son meant his nails grew three times faster than normal…” he muttered, pretending to be angry, frowning exaggeratedly.

 

 The boy chuckled softly, but continued to squirm, trying to pull his hand back.

 

“I didn’t even scratch anything this time!”

 

“This time” the Spaniard replied, gripping his hand more firmly. “But I saw my sofa being threatened the other day.”

 

 Oscar blinked, showing no emotion that could blame or exonerate him. “You can’t prove anything.”

 

 Fernando sighed, but couldn't help but smile. Cutting his son's nails would always be like this, but he had already accepted that it would never be easy to protect his beloved sofa from his claws.

 

 Another custom that became, to say the least, interesting, was the time when Mark decided to walk the dogs with Oscar. Or rather, Oscat.

 

 That morning, the Australian was walking calmly down the sidewalk holding the leashes of his two labradors while the cat trotted alongside them, its tail raised in the air.

 

 The funniest thing is people's reactions. The neighbors, accustomed to dogs chasing any cat that dared to cross their paths, stopped and stared in amazement when they saw Sammy and Simba walking calmly next to a small orange cat.

 

 Mark tried to hold back his laughter, he didn't care to explain how that miracle happened. Oscat concentrated on walking with his chin held high, calm, as he felt safe with the presence of his two furry friends and his father.

 

***

 

 After a particularly long day, Fernando took a moment to relax by himself, lying on the sofa, watching some random program on TV. He knew that Mark would be back soon and that his two dogs were barking at some squirrel in the yard.

 

 His moment alone, however, did not last as long as he had imagined. First he heard Oscar approaching before he could actually see him, the boy walked around him before looking and deciding what he was going to do.

 

 Oscar climbed onto the sofa and lay down on top of him, resting his head against his chest and looking at him with a sparkle in his eyes.

 

 Fernando smiled and hugged him, squeezing the boy against him before giving him a kiss on the top of his head. He loved it when Oscar spontaneously came to him asking for attention.

 

“I’m a little confused…” he said, feigning a thoughtful tone. “I wonder if that’s my boy or my kitten?”

 

 Oscar laughed, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Meowww.”

 

 Fernando laughed and, unable to resist, began to shower his son with kisses on his face and head, until the boy protested. Oscar, still laughing, snuggled closer to him, making himself more comfortable so they could share a nap together.

 

 The Spaniard felt an unparalleled happiness overflowing within him.

 

 The other day, some friends came to visit Mark and Fernando. It was always nice to have a full house, but as usual, there was one detail that needed to be managed well.

 

“Where’s your boy?” Jenson asked, looking around.

 

“He's at my parents' house today. Want more?” Mark replied, already pouring more drink into the blonde's glass.

 

“He’ll only be back tomorrow” Fernando added, nodding naturally.

 

 But in fact, Oscar was right there. Oscat was curled up on the living room rug, around Simba and Sammy, pretending to be asleep.

 

 The conversation went on normally until Sebastian pointed to the little orange cat and asked, “Are you thinking of neutering him?”

 

 Oscar, who was lying peacefully, immediately opened his eyes wide, his fur standing on end slightly.

 

 Mark and Fernando glanced at each other nervously, before the Australian responded a little too quickly. “Uh… we’re not thinking about that yet.”

 

“Yes, there’s a lot to think about before that” Fernando added, chuckling suspiciously.

 

 Oscar stared at them, as if demanding they never think about it.

 

***

 

 That morning, the house was filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement. It was the first time that Oscar would go to school in person, both Fernando and Mark felt that paternal anxiety of seeing their son take another important step in his life.

 

 The Spaniard was in the kitchen, finishing preparing the boy's lunch, carefully putting everything in the lunchbox. He wanted to make sure his son had a peaceful and comfortable day, especially considering all the moving.

 

 When he finished, he picked up the lunchbox and went to look for Oscar, but when he looked around he noticed that his husband was also missing. Frowning, he walked to the backyard and then found the two of them.

 

 Mark ran after Oscar across the lawn, while the boy continued to run away from his father's hands. But soon the man caught up with him, holding the boy tightly before lifting him into the air, making him let out an infectious laugh.

 

 Fernando leaned against the door frame and watched the scene, a smile forming on his face.

 

 It was the Australian's decision to start the habit of walking to work that, ironically, led to the two meeting Oscar. And now, in addition to giving his husband more energy, it also allowed him to run around the yard and lift his son into the air with ease.

 

 The heat that Fernando felt in his chest was immense.

 

 Taking a deep breath, he stepped a little closer and called out to the two of them. “Hey, are you guys going to school or are you going to spend the day playing outside?”

 

 Mark lowered Oscar back to the ground, ruffling the boy’s hair before answering. “We’re psyching ourselves up.”

 

“Uh…” the Spaniard crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow. “Come on, Oscar. Let’s go before you’re late.”

 

 Oscar ran to Fernando, taking the lunchbox he handed him. Mark joined them, adjusting the boy's backpack on his back.

 

 And so, the three of them left together, each carrying in their chest that mixture of fear, pride and happiness.

 

 If anyone asks, they will surely answer that they were not complete before that.

 

 The school entrance looked scarier than they imagined.

 

“You’ll do fine” Fernando said, squeezing the boy’s shoulders.

 

“You’re smart and much more responsible than I was at your age” Mark added, trying to smile despite his nervousness.

 

 Oscar laughed, feeling a little lighter.

 

 But then, a scream caught the attention of the three.

 

 A visibly exhausted father tried to contain his hyperactive son, who was jumping up and down, laughing loudly and completely ignoring any attempt by his father to keep him quiet.

 

“Lando, please. Calm down!”

 

 Mark and Fernando looked at each other, swallowing hard. But when they looked back at Oscar, they saw that the boy was already watching the restless child with a strange expression.

 

 It was a look of recognition, as if Oscar saw something that only he understood.

 

“Uh… Oscar, try not to get too close to him yet, okay? That boy looks like a hyperactive golden retriever” Mark said, slightly worried.

 

 The boy replied in a calm voice. “Okay.”

 

 But the small smile on Oscar's face completely belied his words.

Notes:

the end

thankyou for reading, see you in the future

<3

Notes:

if you find a fanfic where Mark and Fernando meet Oscar in the middle of the night, give him food and ask him what his name is, there's a good chance this fanfic is mine 🙄