Work Text:
“Maine, are you okay?”
He shook his head, silent. He was shaking slightly, Washington could see his hands trembling.
“Maine, it’s just a cat. Come on, you can pet it, it’s okay.” Maine stayed silent, taking a step back as the grey tabby cat stared at him curiously. Washington put a gentle hand on his back in an attempt to soothe him, but the other man jumped at the contact, and he retracted his hand, looking up at the taller figure.
“Maine… have you… never seen a cat in person before? I know I’ve sent you pictures…” Maine shook his head, reaching for Wash’s hand gingerly.
“Is it going to bite me?” He muttered under his breath, almost seeming afraid the cat would hear him.
“No, of course not! She’s really friendly. She’ll probably let you just walk up and pet her. Try it.” He shook his head again, but took a baby step toward the cat, who was sitting on the table expectantly. It meowed loudly, and Wash took initiative to run a hand over its head, scratching at its ears gently and motioning for Maine to do the same.
Slowly, anxiously, Maine reached a hand out toward the tabby. It immediately leaned into his hand, rubbing its face against his palm and meowing. Maine startled at the display of affection, uncertain as to whether he should continue. Wash urged him on with a hand motion, and the taller man ran his hand very gently over the cat’s head and down its back.
Then the cat started purring.
Washington, of course, knew exactly what that meant. This cat in particular was a loud purrer, and it was an obvious form of enjoyment that the little thing emitted when being pet.
But Maine did not know that. His hand shot away as if it had been shocked and he recoiled as the soft rumbles shook the cat’s body, stepping back to the other side of the room. He growled lowly - not an aggressive sound but a timid, fearful one - and Washington thought that had Maine been a cat as well, he’d have his ears flat in terror. He looked up at Maine’s face and instantly his own expression melted into a look of pity. He was genuinely afraid of such a tiny little creature, Wash realized, and knew he had to intervene.
“Maine, do you know what she’s doing?” The taller man shook his head aggressively, eyes still wide with fear.
“She’s purring.”
“... She’s what?” Maine whispered, and tilted his head, side-eying the cat but focusing on Wash as he spoke.
“Purring, big guy. She’s purring. It’s something cats generally do when they’re enjoying being pet or are having attention given to them.”
“She’s not growling?” Wash shook his head, grinning.
“She’s excited to be pet! You should try again. She’s friendly, I swear, she wouldn’t attack you.”
Maine hesitated, but walked back to the table slowly. He gently placed his massive hand on the small tabby’s head, and it again leaned into his palm, starting up the purring once more. This time, however, Maine did not pull away, though he did flinch slightly as the rumbling began. He ran his hand carefully down the cat’s back, then moved back up to its head, repeating the motion a few times. The creature purred louder, and as the motions were repeated, it laid down on the table.
Maine looked to Wash for advice, and he grinned at the taller man.
“You’re doing great! She really likes you, can you not tell?”
“I… I wasn’t sure…”
“Well, rest assured she’s enjoying you petting her. You can visit with her more if you want, she probably likes having people other than me giving her attention.”
“... Yeah?”
“Yeah. You can come pet her any time you like, buddy.” Maine nodded gently and pulled his hand away from the cat, turning to Wash and enveloping him in a hug, nearly lifting the shorter man off the ground. Wash startled, but wrapped his own arms around Maine, smiling wide as he did so.
“Thank you…”
“Any time, Maine. Any time.”