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The little house is dreadfully quiet, and Victor’s inattentive, currently enraptured with his phone—too much so, apparently, to even pet Christophe with the other hand. It leaves Christophe wandering back and forth across the hardwood floor, hoping for a stray mouse to at least liven up his day. He’s actually napped himself out, which he once thought impossible, and it makes him miss his master all the more. As kind as Victor’s been to look after Christophe during Masumi’s business trip, he’s certainly no replacement. He’s interesting and ridiculously good looking, but he doesn’t dote on Christophe the way Masumi always does, and it makes for a boring day.
He’s in the kitchen drinking milk out of a glass when he hears footsteps on the patio. By the time the glass door’s sliding open, Christophe’s finished with his milk and come right over, even gotten down on all fours so he can brush against Yuuri’s legs. Yuuri’s cold when he first steps in, pausing to shut the door behind him, likely because the shorts he wears below his salmon-pink sweater are indecently small. But Christophe likes them that way. He likes the feel of Yuuri’s bare skin against his side, even though he himself is fully dressed. He wouldn’t have to be with Masumi. He could sprawl, naked, over Masumi’s lap and bat at Masumi’s tie, slowly undressing Masumi as his master half ignored him for work, and then, by the time Masumi was finished, Christophe would have him bare and ready. And then Christophe would be pet properly, made to feel good all over, and he’d return the favour.
Just thinking of it has his tail flicking, his tongue coming out to trace his lips. He looks up at Yuuri, whining desperately, “Victor isn’t paying me any attention.” When Christophe first arrived, that might’ve made Yuuri clamp down on a guilty smile. But Yuuri doesn’t seem quite so jealous anymore, which pleases Christophe immensely. He never wanted to trouble anyone. Yuuri actually bends down to scratch behind Christophe’s ear, proving his acceptance.
Yuuri’s attentions aren’t quite as sure as a human’s—and it’s fair enough; Christophe knows that Yuuri likes being petted himself, or at least, likes it when Victor does it. But when Christophe starts to purr encouragingly, Yuuri quietly chuckles, “Poor Chris. Victor’s just busy—he gets like that sometimes.” Then Yuuri withdraws his touches and walks off—Christophe pushes up to his legs and follows.
The main couch, the one facing the television, is the one that Victor’s on, and Yuuri eyes it for a moment before deciding on the second couch: the slightly smaller one that’s pressed up against the wall, just below the window. Christophe follows, clambering onto the cushions to curl quickly against Yuuri’s side. He’s seeking out all of Yuuri’s internal warmth, which quickly rises to the surface under Christophe’s insistent rubbing. Yuuri laughs, maybe from the way Christophe’s fur must tickle him, and then returns to petting the back of Christophe’s head. Purring all the louder, Christophe cuddles into Yuuri, and Yuuri, blushing but smiling, nuzzles into him too. It’s strange, in a way, to rub against another hybrid that seems to understand, but it’s also fun. Humans never snuggle into him that way, only drape over him sometimes, cuddling into place rather than continually nuzzling into him. He and Yuuri revel in each other’s touch, until Christophe longs for more.
He isn’t just a cat. He’s a man with needs, and without Masumi around to take care of him, his hand’s had to do it all. It’s not enough. He mewls as Yuuri’s firm horns graze his soft ears, one of Yuuri’s hands finding balance on his thigh. Christophe lets out a languid moan, and he notices Victor watching them out of the corner of his eye.
Victor’s abandoned his phone. He stares at them, Yuuri seemingly oblivious. Christophe isn’t. He makes a point of winking, which deepens the dark flush across Victor’s gorgeous cheeks.
Victor sighs. Then he calls, “Yuuri,” and Yuuri perks right up, ears flicking to full attention. Victor spreads his arms and bids them both, “come here.”
Christophe and Yuuri hurriedly obey. Yuuri finds one side, Christophe the other, and the two of them cuddle on Victor with twice the passion they gave to one another—Christophe longs for the skilled hands of a master, and Yuuri’s love for Victor is plain for all to see. Victor chuckles away his resignation and murmurs, “How lucky I am...” Christophe quite agrees.
As he and Yuuri all but hump Victor’s handsome body, Christophe idly wonders if he could convince them to try a threesome sometime.