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You're woken up by a loud sound. You groan, burrowing your face into your pillow. You don't know what time it is, but it's for sure too early for whatever is already going on.
“Fuck,” someone whispers as you hear a banging noise.
“Noah?” You ask groggily.
“One sec,” he says, and you hear another whispered swear.
“What are you going?” You mumble, letting out a little noise of discontent. “Get back into bed, it's cold here without you.”
He doesn't respond.
Your curiosity gets the best of you. You sit up, rubbing your eyes. “What's going on?” You yawn.
“Nothing. Don’t—don’t worry about it.”
You notice that he's lying on the floor, basically halfway underneath your bed, with only his legs sticking out. You giggle at the sight.
“Genuinely, what are you doing? How do you end up in this predicament at—” you glance at the clock, “8 in the morning?”
“It's not behaving itself,” he grumbles.
“What?”
“It won't fucking listen!”
Noah jolts at that, and you can hear him bang his head against the bed, with a little “oww” following right after. You barely manage to catch a glimpse of a little creature darting out from under the bed, running underneath your dresser.
“Oh my god,” you giggle. “Noah, what have you done?”
He then stands up, a blush rising on his cheeks. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Happy Valentine's day?”
You can't help but giggle at him. He's so awkwardly adorable. You reach out for him, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him towards you. You leave a soft kiss on his lips, giggling at how he simply melts into your touch.
“You're so adorable,” you smile, tracing your thumb along his jawline.
He looks away sheepishly. “Now help me catch this thing,” he mumbles.
“Nope,” you giggle. “This is all yours to deal with.”
“It was meant to be a gift for you!” He insists.
“Get to catching it then, pretty boy.”
Watching Noah try to grab the little kitten is nothing short of entertaining. It darts around the room, evading capture. Eventually, you take pity on him and decide to help him out. It ends up with the little kitten cradled in his arms, the tiny creature purring in contentment. It’s tucked in between his elbow and torso, the tiny head and front paws sticking out. It's making biscuits against Noah’s arm, while letting out tiny squeaks that can't even be called meows. You can now see that it’s a tuxedo cat—with a soft, white tummy, and distinct little socks. It's got a tiny bow tied around its neck, the soft, pink velvet contrasting with Noah's tattooed arm. They look so adorable together—your sweet puppy boy paired together with the tiny kitty that he’s holding.
“I know that I’ve been begging for a cat for months, but I didn’t think that you’d actually get me one,” you coo, scratching the kitten’s chin.
“I drove by the shelter and they had an advertisement up. It's not my fault,” he pouts. “I was only going to have a look, but this one kept insistently meowing at me. I just had to bring him home.”
It’s so awfully endearing. Both of you had long dreamed of having a pet, but with touring schedules keeping Noah away and your job often needing you to be out of town, it just didn’t seem possible.
“What’s his name?” You ask.
“Socks.”
You don’t look too impressed. “Really? That’s the best that you could come up with?”
“What’s wrong with it? He’s got little white socks on his feet, the name fits.”
“It’s so generic. You’re a songwriter, you’re meant to be good with words.”
“What do you suggest then?”
You pause for a second. You only really have one chance at this. Your face lights up in a grin. “Sebastian.”
“Sebastian? Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I—that’s my name,” he says, frowning.
“No, your name is ‘Noah’.”
He can’t even argue. He already knows that he won’t win this battle.
“My sweet little Sebastian, you’re so adorable, aren’t you?” You coo, scratching the kitten’s chin.
Noah jolts when you say his name, but otherwise stands there, frowning and visibly displeased. His frown is so unbelievably adorable, that you can’t resist but reach out and scratch his chin too. He preens at the affection, leaning into your touch.
You’re so lucky to now have two kittens living with you.
_ _ _ _ _
“Sebastian! Lunch time,” you call, shaking the bag of cat food.
The kitten doesn’t respond to your call. However, Noah does slink up to the kitchen door, standing and waiting in the doorway.
“Someone called?” He asks, eyes wide and desperate for attention.
“Yeah, for the cat, not for you.”
“Am I not also your little kitten?” He pouts.
“You know that you are. But unless you want to eat some stinky cat food, I wouldn’t recommend meowing at me right this moment.”
He sulks, sitting down at the kitchen table and pouting. “I feel like I’m being replaced,” he mumbles.
You coo at him, reaching out and running a hand through his hair. “You’re so silly. You do know that you’re the one who decided to bring the kitten home, right? The only one responsible for this is you.”
“I didn’t think that I would be replaced so easily!”
_ _ _ _ _
“Noah!” You shout from downstairs. You stare at the kitten, as it paces around its empty foodbowl. “You forgot to feed the cat!”
“IT’S YOUR CAT!” Comes the muffled shout from upstairs.
“You’re the one that bought it!” You can’t help but giggle. Antagonising Noah really is your favourite hobby.
_ _ _ _ _
At the end of the day, Noah suggests watching a movie together. You agree, eager to get some cuddle time with your boyfriend.
However, Noah is less than happy when he notices you sitting on the couch, the kitten resting in your lap, already fast asleep.
“That’s my spot.”
“What?”
He points at your lap. “That’s where my head goes. That’s my spot.”
You can’t help but giggle. “Looks like someone else got there first.”
Noah doesn’t miss a beat. “Get rid of him.”
You can’t even hide your laugh. “Noah, he’s just a little kitten. You can’t possibly be jealous of a little kitten that’s only a few months old.”
“That’s my spot,” he reiterates.
You sigh. “You’re evil, by the way. Forcing me to move a sleeping kitten. Imagine if someone did the same to you.”
You pick up the kitten, cradling it against your chest as Noah situates himself on the couch. He lays down on his side, resting his head in your lap. You gently place the kitten down in front of him, so that it’s cuddled against his chest. You continue to pet the kitten, but Noah still isn’t happy, making a little noise of discontent.
“What’s wrong now?”
“You’re not giving me attention. I deserve head pats too,” he frowns.
You can’t help the tiny smile that tugs at your lips.
“Don’t laugh,” he says, turning to you. “I feel like I’m being replaced. I don’t feel loved enough. Isn’t Valentine's day meant to be all about love?”
“You’re so dramatic,” you say as you run a hand through his hair. He preens at the attention, leaning into your touch and letting out a little noise of affection.
_ _ _ _ _
For the second time in twenty-four hours, you’re woken up by a crashing noise. Noah is still laying in bed beside you, though he seems to have been slightly woken up too.
“You better go get your child,” you mumble, rolling over and going back to sleep. “You created this problem, and you’re going to take care of it,” you yawn.
Noah sighs, turning on the bedside lamp and rolling out of bed. He returns a minute later, kitten in his arms. He lies back down, holding the kitten out in front of him and staring up at it.
“And she told me that she wanted you,” he sighs.
_ _ _ _ _
You sit on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee and watching as Noah plays with the kitten. He seems to have gotten over his initial jealousy, and now the pair feel like partners-in-crime.
”Y’know, he seems so lonely,” Noah says. “Maybe we should get him a sibling.”
“Absolutely not.”
“But he needs company! He needs someone to play with!”
“Are you willing to share my lap with another kitten?”
He’s silent in response.