Chapter Text
Nimbus grew into his name.
He stayed gray, like a raincloud that never quite decided to storm, but his eyes lost that wide, uncertain edge.
They were calmer now. Knowing. A cat who understood exactly where he belonged.
The apartment changed with time.
More plants—placed higher now, learned the hard way.
More photos on the walls.
A bigger couch.
Nimbus claimed all of it.
He slept in sunlit windowsills. Stole warm laundry.
Supervised every grocery bag like it was suspicious.
He still hated baths.
Still attacked wrapping paper. Still believed treats were a basic human obligation.
Some things never changed.
Ice still woke early, coffee in hand, Nimbus padding after him like a shadow.
Jake still pretended he wasn’t a morning person while scratching Nimbus’s chin without thinking.
And every night—without exception—Nimbus slept between them.
Sometimes stretched out dramatically.
Sometimes curled tight like a comma.
Always touching both.
One evening, years later, Ice paused in the doorway of the living room.
Jake was on the couch, half-asleep.
Nimbus lay on his chest, purring steadily, one paw draped over Jake’s shoulder like it had always been meant to be there.
Ice smiled.
“Hey,” Jake murmured, eyes still closed. “You okay?”
Ice crossed the room and sat beside them.
“Yeah,” he said. “Just… thinking.”
Nimbus opened one eye, checked that Ice was close, then closed it again.
Satisfied.
Jake smiled faintly.
“He still does that,” he said. “Makes sure we’re both here.”
Ice rested his hand on Nimbus’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall.
“So do I.”
Outside, the city hummed. Inside, the apartment was warm. Familiar. Full.
Nimbus purred—deep, content, unafraid.
He had been adopted once.
But every day after, they chose each other again.
And that was home.