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Barbatos had grown up surrounded by cats of all sizes and breeds.
His mother ran a shelter for them, or a 'retirement home' as she called it, that mostly took in the old ones no one wanted to adopt so that they could live out their final days being loved. Most of his childhood had been spent covered in cat fur, helping her feed them, playing with them and simply observing as they wandered around - what must’ve been - their version of paradise.
Barbatos loved them, he did, but he had also never known what it was like to not have a cat wandering underfoot. Going to college was his chance to take a taste of that. Just for a few years.
His cat-free life had barely lasted a year. Then his mother had come to his apartment, with a two month old kitten tucked into a warm blanket, and pleaded for him to keep it.
He’s a special one, She’d said, running a finger down it’s little head, her eyes soft, A little fighter. I know it’s not something I should make a habit of, I just can’t part with him. But I also can't keep him with the old ones...
Always weak to his mother’s pleading, Barbatos had caved.
Lord Diavolo, as Barbatos had named him, was the strangest cat he’d ever cared for. Maybe it was the result of his unknown first months, before his mother had found him, but he acted more like a dog than anything; he liked to play, and never seemed to nap, and refused to groom himself with his tongue. He preferred warm baths where he got pampered afterwards.
That was how he got the Lord tacked onto his name. Barbatos felt almost like a butler for a child of some old-timey noble family. It didn’t help that Diavolo was massive. A sentient ball of reddish-brown fluff, huge even for a Norwegian forest cat, who could easily outclass a toddler in size.
Unfortunately, he also forgot he wasn’t the teeny kitten he had been, and almost suffocated Barbatos in his sleep many times. So, no matter how loudly he cried, he would not be allowed into the young man’s room after sundown…
(Okay, maybe he was let back in sometimes. Just sometimes!
...It was most of the time.)
All in all, Barbatos was completely satisfied. Diavolo was more than enough for him. A goofy-yet-regal baby of a cat who liked it when he got treats and cuddle time. Which begged the question: Why was he doing this to himself?
With a sigh, Barbatos unlocked the door to his apartment, listening to the furious hissing and scratching coming from inside the animal carrier.
It seemed that the tranquilizer that the vet had had to use was wearing off- and his new passenger was even more pissed off. As much as he wished it was, this had not been his mother’s doing. No, it was all his, and he had the bandaged hands to prove it. Damn those once-in-a-blood-moon impulsive decisions of his.
He opened his door, instantly hearing the frantic patter of paws. Another dog-like behavior; Diavolo always liked to greet him when he got home.
“We have a new roommate, my Lord,” He said, his voice exaggeratedly formal, only to wince at a particularly loud yowl from said ‘roommate.’ Ugh. There would be so many regrets in the future, wouldn’t there be? How would Diavolo even react to another cat? He’d probably get huffy, like when Barbatos always tricked him into going to the vet by promising a trip to the pet store-
Oh well. Might as well see where this led.
Barbatos crouched down, letting the carrier touch the ground, and undid the latch.
Diavolo took a few hesitant steps forwards, his curious sniff being met with a smack on the nose by a black paw. Then, Lucifer darted out past him.
Lucifer was, honestly, quite the beautiful bengal. He looked sleek, and refined, with a unique black coloring that almost made his marks disappear completely. But he also had a nasty temperament. Barbatos could tell why - those scars on the cat’s back spoke of unhappy times. Any animal would get aggressive if they were hurt so badly.
A former showcat, the woman at the adoption center had said, who had attacked another cat during a contest out of the blue and had to retire early.
If he wasn’t adopted, the bengal would be put down within the year.
His decision to bring Lucifier home had relied on the idea of rehabilitation. He’d assisted in the process a few times, over the years. Diavolo was also a sweet cat- he liked others, and had never fought beyond play, and even the most crotchedy of his mother’s four-legged clients didn’t mind curling up with him for a midday snooze. What better cat to get Lucifer readjusted with?
Up on the highest tower of the rarely-used scratching post, Lucifer looked more like a gargoyle than a cat. His pupils were thin slits, his tail standing up, and his back arched. Clearly, he didn’t want company.
“Come on, my Lord,” Barbatos said, lifting the curious forest cat with a grunt, “Lucifer doesn’t seem to want us around. Let’s let him explore a bit.”
Diavolo simply meowed, staring at the cat on the tower until he was out of sight.
The next week consisted of getting Lucifer adjusted to the house. Diavolo was kept in Barbatos's bedroom during the day, the one place the big baby didn’t mind being stuck, so he didn’t startle Lucifer back onto his perch. At night, Lucifer slept in the carrier he’d arrived in. Barbatos monitored him when he wasn’t at work, trying to gauge the personality behind his defensive behavior.
Which…
Well, Lucifer was certainly a former showcat.
Diavolo was spoiled. Barbatos had accepted that long ago, knowing he couldn’t stop pampering his little Lord. But Lucifer was a brat. A haughty brat who refused to eat most kitty kibble and almost all wet food, and liked to be brushed just so, and fought against bath time with fervor.
And, maybe, Barbatos was falling in love with him. Attitude and all.
“Luci,” He coaxed, only to be met by the most unimpressed stare any cat could’ve given him, “It’s treat time. I think I might let Lord Diavolo out of the room, is that okay with you?”
Lucifer hopped down with grace, his nose in the air as he trotted over to the kitchen. Barbatos chuckled. Then, he carefully let Diavolo out. This was a risk, one that he hoped didn’t turn out as badly as their first meeting had. It wasn’t like he could keep them separated forever, though, and he needed to know if they could coexist. To know if Lucifer could really stay here.
Diavolo rushed into the kitchen first thing, the tag on his collar jingling with every little bounce, and sat down right where he always did during treat time. Lucifer didn’t spook- but he was clearly watching the other’s every move.
Barbatos fed Lucifer one and Diavolo two, as an apology for keeping him locked up.
Then, it was time to watch how they interacted.
When Diavolo sniffed at him, Lucifer didn’t bat at him, but wasn’t paying him any attention either. The bouncing around didn’t get attention either. His friendly chattering seemed to be the last straw. Lucifer raised a paw when Diavolo’s head was on the ground, placing it on the back of his head daintily, as if to keep him from rising.
Unable to help himself, Barbatos snorted.
Yes, they would get along well.
A week later, Lucifer had a shiny new collar, and a routine with Diavolo.
In the morning, Barbatos would feed them both and play a bit with Diavolo. Then he would leave them to go to work and/or class, checking up on them sometimes via the little indoor camera he had installed. Diavolo would try to get Lucifer to play, Lucifer would ignore him, and eventually he’d get a little smack on the head if he kept pushing. Then they napped - one on the tower and one on the cat bed.
Rested and undeterred, Diavolo would try again and again to get Lucifer's attention. That lasted until Barbatos got home and entertained him with toys. They would eat again, sometimes be bathed - to Diavolo’s delight and Lucifier’s anguish - and get brushed. Then he put Lucifer in his carrier, and slept with a cuddly Diavolo.
But, about a month into it, things started to change.
Rather… Diavolo started to change.
When Barbatos went to put Lucifer in his carrier one night, Diavolo let out the saddest, most distressed cry that he’d made ever since he was a kitten. It had startled him - he genuinely thought Diavolo was hurt - but then his cat had pushed past him and into the carrier with Lucifer. Or, at least tried.
Barbatos blinked. It wasn’t a good fit; most of Diavolo was still outside the carrier, his fluffy fur was poking out of the holes on the side, and Lucifer was making noises that were a mix between distress and anger. But it was shocking for other reasons. Diavolo hated carriers; they were the only thing that genuinely made him upset, and Barbatos had even gotten special permission from their vet to let him take Diavolo in carrier-less back when he was still small enough to fit.
“You want to sleep with Lucifer tonight, my Lord?” He asked, gently pulling Diavolo out. The forest cat mewled while the bengal crept out. Gently, Barbatos scooped him up, letting Diavolo follow.
In the morning, Diavolo was curled up to the smaller cat, instead of trying to sleep on Barbatos’s face. Strange.
Then, a few nights later, Barbatos came home and wasn’t greeted at the door by Diavolo. He was too deeply engrossed in grooming Lucifer to notice him.
Diavolo always greeted him when he returned.. He also hated grooming, no matter if he was on the giving or receiving end.
“I just don’t understand,” Barbatos sighed into the phone after about three days of being ignored, washing the dishes and very much aware of the snugglefest that was his cats in the room over, “Why did he change so suddenly? And why is Lucifer accepting all this attention now?”
His mom just laughed, “Oh, honey. It almost sounds like your cats are a mated pair!”
Barbatos blinked. Then blinked again. Then he peered into the living room, where Lucifer was the one grooming Diavolo for once, and returned to the sink.
“Oh my God.”
More laughter. Barbatos was still reeling, because wow. He had gay cats. How had he not noticed?
“Thanks mom. I think I need to lay down.”
They both said their respective goodbyes as he put away the dishes, before he hung up and went into his room to lay on his bed. Was this what parents felt like when their kids were growing up? He still remembered when Diavolo was an itty-bitty kitten, still relying on Barbatos for all of his affection, and now he was a gentle giant of a cat with a former showcat boyfriend. That was like dating a model in the cat world, right? He was… strangely proud.
And… well, he thought to himself, bundling up in his blankets and closing his eyes, It's not like they can have kittens.