Chapter Text
Juan sleeps badly.
Or rather, he sleeps too well.
The rare kind of sleep that swallows you whole on an unassuming, spring morning – warm, dreamless and fulfilling in a way that feels less like rest and more like a cellular reset. It leaves you heavy-limbed and pleasantly listless before the day has even properly begun, dissolving the worries of the previous day into something distant and exiguous. A baptism of sorts; when you surface, it feels like a fresh start.
It’s exactly the kind he needs. One that has been unattainable until now.
When he wakes up, it’s with a low hum still lingering in the back of his throat and his face buried into the softness of a pillow. For a moment, he just squints at it before enfolding his arms around the plushiness and squeezing it firmly against his chest like an embrace. Through the syrupy haze, he can almost imagine it hugging him back.
He rolls to the edge of the bed in a lithe stretch, feeling more like himself than he had in months.
The illusion of a fresh start lasted exactly until he reached for his slacks.
As he tugs the waistband over his hip, the fabric snags at the base of his spine, catching against the root of something firm, smooth and unmistakable. The events from the other day flit into memory, crashing over him like a bucket of cold water.
He doesn’t even bother to look in the mirror, the heavy, undeniable weight of them is enough. Now that his mind has caught up to his body, he can feel the small pressure of something fuzzy against his temples and the press of his tail wrapped around his calf.
He storms to Aldo’s room.
—
Aldo answers the door in something far from his usual General attire: a plain white tee, black shorts and socks that awkwardly stretch past his ankles. He isn’t wearing his glasses—his eyes look small and still languid from sleep, the aggressive morning light flooding the hallway has him blearily squinting down at Juan in his doorway.
It’s a sight. On any other day, Juan would have been giggling.
Aldo blinks. His gaze first catches Juan’s ears hanging low and flat, next drifts to his tail rhythmically slapping the floor in angry thwacks behind him. Then it lands on Juan’s murderous scowl. Instantly, Aldo sobers up. A wheeze of air escapes him and he’s chuckling into his fist.
“Hermano, you are still like this?” Aldo grins, barely containing himself. Juan’s scowl deepens into a thunderous glower.
“You said it would disappear soon!”
“Yes,” Aldo nods slowly like it’s the most obvious thing. It feels almost mocking, like it isn’t something Juan already knows, like it isn’t a problem Juan should not expect to wake up and still have. “Potions are temporary right?”
Juan takes one furious step closer, crowding him in. “Don’t fucking mess with me. You said that yesterday.” He emphasizes.
Aldo’s shoulders tip up into a dismissive shrug. He seems to pause for a second, mouth pursed in thought like he’s considering something. Eventually, he lets it slip. “Yeah, I can’t exactly give you a timeframe or anything.“
A beat. Juan waits.
“.. I stole it.”
Juan’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. The stark shock of Aldo's admission has him reeling back. It’s impossible for his voice to get any louder. “You did what?! From where?” Aldo is undaunted by his shout, still looking comfortable with his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts. “Pendejo. I tell you we must avoid a war at all costs, and you do this?”
Aldo of course doesn’t give a forward answer. He leans against the doorframe with an infuriating smirk that gives Juan the growing urge to punch him; it isn't the first time he has had that thought in the past 24 hours. “It's that surprising I don’t listen to you when you talk?”
One of Juan's ears gives a swift forward flick, tail going still. He ignores it– does the same with Aldo’s blatant jab as a colder thought settles in.
“Wait..“
“Did you two know that it would have turned me like this?” He doesn't wait for Aldo to answer, it doesn't look like he's about to anyway. “Or you seriously let me drink that without knowing what it’ll do in favour of some stupid fucking prank.”
Aldo shrugs again. Juan's expression shifts from simple anger to something between raging and disbelief. He snaps.
“That’s so reckless of you, Aldo. Are you serious?!” Juan exclaims. “You are the General of War. That doesn't mean anything to you? Your job is to protect the North, to protect people. Instead you hand me some stolen potion like it's a fucking joke and then let me drink it without knowing what it does.” Juan knows it probably isn't fair to dish it out all on Aldo like this, like he's the only one involved, but the frustration of it all had been building the moment he woke up and realized he still has to deal with this.
“It’s not the end of the world, Juan, just some ears and a tail.”
Hot anger surges over him like a wave, his fist slams against the wall near Aldo’s head once, shaking the foundation.
“What if it wasn't just ears and a tail? What if it was something dangerous and made me sick? What if it was something detrimental or slow and deathly and l was too busy dealing with all of this,” He gestures widely to himself. “To notice. I had to sit through meetings while everyone in the mansion treated me like some petting zoo attraction. No one would take me seriously.”
“Well it’s nothing new!” Aldo finally defends himself, his voice lowly pitched with his own frustration of being called out.
“The potion didn't kill you, right?” He shoots back. “At least it did some fucking good. Change something about you so that people consider you tolerable enough to hang around besides running from your endless lectures.”
The words hit harder than Juan wants them to. His stomach rolls into ugly knots, he feels his ears flatten against the side of his head. He hates how they give him away.
“At least my lectures keep this place standing.” Juan says and turns around before he does something stupid like hiss or take a swing at Aldo or something.
It has never felt entirely fair, the sheer amount Juan pours into this place compared to how little anyone seems to truly acknowledge it. The responsibilities of his position carry more weight than almost any other title in the North; his duties stretch longer, demand more, and linger far beyond the end of the day. Some nights it’s difficult to get proper sleep at all, his whole body strung tight from the mental and physical load of the day behind him and the one already waiting ahead.
Still, he doesn’t do it for fanfare or grand recognition.
He loves his job.
He loves what the North stands for, what it could become, and the trust Vegetta places in him to help keep it upright.
But maybe—
maybe a little acknowledgment from someone wouldn’t be so terrible.
He barely makes it three steps before he bumps into something firm.
Or well, someone.
Strong arms instinctively reach out to steady him before he stumbles backwards. Juan looks up.
It’s Foolish.
Of course it is.
He’s wearing a standard office outfit, replicating the same style as Juan: short sleeve dress shirt, tie, dark coloured trousers. The shirt is so tight around his biceps that his muscles spill at the sleeves’ hem. He has that usual perpetual beaming expression on his face, unfrazzled by the morning, unlike Juan who hangs his head low to avoid his stare.
“Move.”
Foolish isn't even in his way.
Foolish tilts his head at the emotion in his voice, takes one quick glance at Aldo’s door then looks back at Juan and hums knowingly. “Woah! Rough morning?”
Juan is silent but he also doesn't walk away. His ears are still flat and his tail is tucked between his legs.
Foolish’s gaze slowly drifts over him again, takes in the pinned ears, the tense line of his shoulders and the hidden tail. The beaming smile shifts into something of genuine interest and empathy. “So you are still like this...I mean, that's probably why-” He gestures to the dejected ears and tail. “They look like that. It really gives you away, dude.”
Juan sighs. Foolish rushes to continue.“I mean— It's not a bad thing. I like it that I can tell what you're thinking or feeling. So when you get like this, I know— I want to do something to cheer you up. ”
Juan stomach clenches, one ear twitches upwards before going flat against his skull again. Suddenly, Aldo’s words from earlier are ringing in his ears. “So you wouldn't have cared if I was normal then?” It doesn't come out as jokingly as Juan wants it to. Too much realness bleeds out.
Foolish's hands fly up with his palms pointing outwards as if to physically push the thought away. “No, no no.” he placates. “That is not what I meant. You know like when you see a distressed animal —”
“So I'm an animal now ? Wow, Foolish.” Foolish pales and stupidly stumbles over his words at Juan's assumption. It's hilarious watching him rush to defend himself. Involuntarily and faintly, Juan's tail rises to give a small swish.
“No! Don't cut me off—” Foolish says. “It's different. I'm used to you- y’know yelling all the time and I've never actually hated it before— Just, with the ears and tail, I dunno. It gives me cuteness aggression. I said it last time,“ Foolish continues, a little too honest. “It makes me want to pet you.”
“Bro,” Juan says because he doesn't know what else to say, can only recall yesterday in his office, limbs locked, eyes shut as he unconsciously leaned into the touch of Foolish's finger when it brushed his ear. The embarrassing sound he made and how it fucked him up the whole night but also gave him the best sleep of his life. Even now, just remembering has his ears flicking up and his tail curving upright. “I’m not letting you pet me. What the heck?” He says. Finally. Lamely.
“Are you sure? because—“ He motions to Juan's new mood indicators. “Like I said, they really give you away.”
Juan rumbles before he can stop it.
“Look, all I'm saying is: Head scratches, pets, touch— It helps calm cats down right? Practically every animal likes them. Even people too. Maybe it'll help you from being so tense.“ He steps half a step closer, close enough that Juan could feel the heat off his body. His voice lowers into something gentle. “Help you relax. Give you a break from all this, the stress.“
“Bro.” Juan repeats like an idiot. It comes out embarrassingly thin.
Foolish continues after a beat. “Just a suggestion.” Then it's silent again.
“I’m— You— You,” Juan shuts his eyes and his mouth and stops all movement besides the traitorous lashing of his tail, thinking that if he goes completely still, then maybe he could pretend this isn't happening and he could finally stop pretending that Foolish’s proposal isn't tempting enough to have him this damn flustered. Seriously, it feels like he's either going to explode or do something he will probably regret forever.
Thankfully, a loud ping from both their devices interrupts the tense moment. Juan’s shoulders drop, chest smoothing out, grateful for the disruption. He opens the public channel to see the message and sender that saved him from doing something foolish— but when he sees it, his stomach drops.
VegettaGaymer: Juan and Foolish come to my office
Foolish, who seems to have gotten exceptional at reading him, tilts his head up from the message, corner of his lips stretching. “Saved by the King.“
“Don’t start.” Juan scolds. The tension in his shoulders return with something sharper.
Somehow things just keep getting worse. Juan didn't even know Vegetta was back. Now he's going to have to face his boss, the King, while still stuck like this with ears and tail that betrays him whenever Foolish is close.
Who is still too close. Juan steps back to put some space between them. He exhales slowly through his nose, smoothes out his shirt, loosens the tie.
“Come on,” Foolish beckons to the hallway. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
Juan nods once, stiffly.
The walk to Vegetta’s office is quiet, but not comfortable. Juan tries to shift his composure into the resolute presence required being the second in command to hide how awkward it feels with the cat features; it's hard when Foolish keeps glancing at him through the corner of his eyes, unsubtly.
By the time they reach the office door, Juan’s pulse is lurching violently under his skin all over again.
Not because of Vegetta.
At least, not entirely.