Work Text:
Newt sighed when another car swished through the street and left a wet stain on his trousers from the puddle too close to the pavement. He was too tired to actually get angry, so he just shrugged it off, adjusted his umbrella and continued onward. His leg didn’t hurt as much as normal when the weather got so bad, but even when it did he would probably be too sleepy to notice. This night he couldn’t sleep almost at all, and caught only a slight shut-eye for an hour before his alarm went off. Thomas tried to stay up with him, but he drifted off eventually a little past midnight, his head on Newt’s lap when they crashed on the couch instead in the bed. Newt tried to make him go back to bedroom, but Thomas refused, even in his sleep hazed state, and snuggled close for warmth. Newt only threw a blanket over his form and spent hours of running his fingers through his hair, drawing abstract patterns on his arm or caressing his shoulder blades. It calmed him down and made Thomas almost purr, so even that he finally nodded off around 5, he still felt calm and not stressed like always.
The only bad thing about it was his sleepiness that didn’t go away. He was surprised he actually noticed a box lying around the corner to the back alley with newspaper threw haphazardly over it, already drenched to the point of melting. The box carried a big black letters with “PLEASE TAKE ME HOME!” on it and Newt stopped in his tracks, watching it curiously. People were mostly passing it without a second glance, hasty on their way to work, but Newt felt too spent for that, so he crouched in front of the box and uncovered its contents with raised eyebrow, just to reveal…
A cat.
It was small, so probably still a kitten, shivering in the dampness and meowing loudly, watching Newt with sad eyes. She was mostly white with black spots and no collar, so probably a stray. Although if someone put an effort to get a box and write the message on it, maybe it belonged to somebody before, but they had to put it away.
“They should at least put you in a shelter,” he mumbled with a frown, slowly reaching for the head, scratching behind its ears. The cat meowed again and tried to get out of its confinement, but Newt pushed it gently back, sighing.
“You’re cute, hun, but I have to go to work,” he whispered apologetically, feeling a little stupid for talking to the animal aloud. The kitten tried to catch his hand with its paws, but he moved away and stood up. He would take it. But he couldn’t just bring an animal to the office, a stray one on top of that. And just bringing the cat home would prove difficult as well, what if Thomas disliked cats?
Geez, I don’t even know if he likes cats more? Or dogs? He looks like a dog person.
The small creature whined pitifully, the newspaper was almost in pieces already from the unmerciful rain, and Newt just couldn’t stand that. He slowly put his umbrella atop of it, shielding it from the wetness, and pulled his scarf off his neck, nestling the box with it.
“Sorry, little one,” he mumbled sadly. “This is the best I can do.”
The cat nuzzled into the scarf for a second, but then continued to meow unhappily. Newt found a comfort in the fact it won’t get rained at now, at least until some bastard won’t take the umbrella.
He turned away hesitantly and resumed his walking, the rain waking him up a little, even though it meant getting drenched.
***
“You do realize we invented umbrellas, right?” Teresa greeted him with a raised eyebrow when he finally reached the office, completely wet, his hair plastered over his head and the coat heavy.
“Blasphemy,” he retorted and shook the wet garment off, ruffling his hair to get it a little drier. She handed him a towel at least and he was grateful no other smart remarks landed on his pitiful state.
The cat was still on his mind. He couldn’t push the thought of the little furball shivering in the rain away, no matter how hard he tried, or how busy he was. What kind of a human being he became to leave the poor, suffering creature in such conditions? He felt bad for it, and the longer he sat there, contemplating and imagining the cold and ignorant people walking around it, the worse he could content his own dissatisfaction of his decision earlier.
When the time reached 12, he took his still wet coat and left the office in hurry, his mind made up. He was not leaving the poor fella out there; he was going to take it home. If Thomas didn’t like cats, they could put it in the shelter later, but now his mind was set and he pushed stubbornly through the crowded street to the place he left the cat in the morning.
The weather still sucked, but the rain diminished a little, and Newt was glad he didn’t get drenched again. When he finally reached his destination, and he did a double take to be sure it was here, his heart sank a little. The box was already gone, along with his umbrella.
“Aw, shuck,” he breathed out, crossing his arms on his chest. “Too late.”
He checked further in the alley and two streets back if he didn’t make a mistake, but the cat was really gone and he sighed in defeat, returning to his work in a much slower pace.
Just in front of the building he saw two well-known figures and he froze for a second, wondering what happened and what he did wrong to deserve such visit of those two assassins.
“There you are!” Minho exclaimed the second he noticed Newt standing there awkwardly and it immediately pulled Brenda’s attention to him as well. Her piercing eyes seized him like a laser and he wondered what kind of punishment she planned for today. But her red lips only widened in a pleased smirk when she approached, so maybe his death sentence got postponed for a little while longer.
“Where were you?” the Asian patted Newt on his back, frowning a little at the dampness that met his palm. “Did you take a shower? With clothes on?”
“Got drenched this morning,” Newt uttered and Brenda held her big black umbrella higher, right above him. Such gesture scared him; it was as if she cared.
“Our poor little soul,” she cooed at him, dragging her long, red fingernails through his still damp hair. She must have been styling into a vampire again, since everything about her screamed blood. “How about we treat you to lunch?”
“Do you want to poison me there?” he asked warily and Minho snickered, taking Newt around his shoulders in consolation.
“My dear bunny,” he smiled at him cheekily and Newt rather skipped the fact he kept on calling him that. “If we wanted to poison you, I’d bring you home and cooked something myself. That’s fatality there.”
“He’s right,” Brenda snorted. “He can make a bio weapon even from scrambled eggs.”
“Good to know,” the blond noted and Minho flipped her off, pulling Newt along with him towards the opposite side from the office.
“Was thinking of-,”
“If you say sushi or ramen, I’ll seriously judge you, man,” Newt stopped his speech with a frown and Brenda next to him laughed heartily, locking their elbows in an elegant hold. Such proximity of her calibre was making him nervous, but she seemed to behave.
“Nah, thought about something more fancy, but I feel insulted by your disrespect towards my culture,” Minho faked an upset look and Brenda rolled her eyes.
“You are Korean, you dork,” she said pointedly and Minho shushed her.
“Combo breaker,” he accused her and she only smiled sweetly, pulling Newt closer to her side.
“So how is your lovey-dovey life so far, Blondie?” she asked in a sugary tone and it made him seriously uneasy of what’s going to come as a punchline.
“All good?” he replied unsteadily and got a little unsure when Minho pulled them towards a steakhouse. Newt felt like going for a slaughter.
“Good,” she winked at him, a pure evil dripping from her features and he couldn’t think hard enough of what he had done for her to have murderous tendencies. He got engaged to Thomas a week ago, and they were super comfortable, no bumps or problems lately, everything smooth. Was it about that? Did they learned this fact now and decided it was time to get rid of him? Them teaming up was the most scary thing in the world.
The lunch got even scarier when they entered the restaurant and it was full, but Minho apparently had a reservation – that meant he planned all this in advance, and that got him seriously itchy. A table for three – so Brenda was tagging along on default as well.
Right when they got seated and given a menu, Brenda suddenly seized his hand and made a weird, squealing noise in the back of her throat. He was expecting a chopper to appear, ready to cut his hand away.
But no, she only stared at his ring, touching it excitedly and then started to pull at it.
“Show me, show me, show me!” she chanted happily and he was too stunned to actually say no, so he rather pulled it down and dropped it to her tiny palm. She started to examine it closely and humming contently, which seriously freaked him out a little.
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked in a lower voice towards Minho and the Asian smirked.
“It’s her design,” he explained. “She is just happy it came out like this.”
“The ring is your design?” he blinked in surprise and she finally gave him a look, her eyes shining excitedly.
“Well, yes, Blondie,” she smiled toothily. “Both rings are my design. Specially made so they click together like they do.”
“Oh,” he let out lamely. “Cool?”
“Cool?” she stared at him with raised eyebrows and he cleared his throat.
“Awesome, I mean.”
“That’s right, Blondie. Awesome,” she handed the ring to Minho and he looked at it curiously.
“Damn, that’s really fine,” he commented on the piece of jewellery. “No wonder Thomas was so worked up over it, eh.”
“Was he?” Newt piped and Minho grinned.
“Well yes, bun. Kept on fussing about when it’s gonna be ready, I thought I will cook something for him to shut him up,” he retorted and Newt found himself believing it without hesitation. Thomas’ excitement was sometimes so powerful it was hard to contain. “But it came out nicely. Guess he presented it good?”
“If you mean the proposal, then yes,” he took the ring from Minho’s hand and put it back on gingerly under their watchful eyes and Cheshire cat grins.
“Did you cry?” she pried slyly and Minho chuckled.
“Newt? He doesn’t know what tears are.”
“That’s right, my tear ducts are parched,” Newt uttered and adjusted the ring so it felt comfortable again. He wasn’t used to wearing anything like this - rings, bracelets or even chains, so the ring took a little adjusting before he wore it without a constant worry that he was going to lose it somehow.
“Oh c’mon, you got engaged!” she nudged him with her knee under the table. “Was the sex at least worth it?”
“Oh god,” he hid his face in his hands, a sudden hotness rising to his cheeks.
“It waaaaas,” Minho drawled and patted his back happily. “Aren’t you a lucky guy, huh? Sexy fiancé, good in bed, goddamn, that’s paradise.”
“How do you know Tom is good in bed?” Brenda shot at him from the other side of the table and Minho winked at her.
“This secret is going to die with me,” he declared proudly and Newt just couldn’t keep up with them anymore.
***
The only thing Newt really wanted was a hot shower and a bed. He dragged himself home through windy streets, his mind occupied by this noon lunch time. Minho and Brenda kept on teasing him through the whole ordeal, implying all kinds of embarrassing stuff that Thomas and Newt should try during the wedding night, and Brenda also suggested she could take care of the wedding itself – through decorating and the cake choosing. Newt wasn’t very sure he wanted to have the wedding full of vampire themed costumes, but nodded anyway.
He was happy when he entered the flat and the warmth welcomed him immediately. He took off his shoes and entered the living room with a hello on his tongue, but it died before he could let it out. Thomas was crouching in front of the couch, looking under it, his butt sticking up (Newt had a tendency to smack him, just for fun), and all over the floor lied shredded pieces of paper.
“Man, what happened here?” he shook down his coat, staring at the mess and Thomas quickly straightened up, giving him a sheepish smile.
“Hey, love,” he used his obligatory pet naming and Newt bended down to kiss him. It took him seconds to notice Thomas’ hands looked as if he just got in the fight with bunch of evil roses. “I just got us a new freeloader.”
“A shredder?” Newt dropped on his knees as well, and bended down to look under the furniture in silent question, just to be greeted with familiar green eyes staring back at him.
“Oh my god, it was you!” he shot back up and pounced, crushing his fiancé in a tight embrace and they fell on the ground with Newt on top of him.
“Wha-?” Thomas only managed before he got kissed happily and only hummed in appreciation, circling his hands around Newt’s waist and pulling him closer.
“Oh my, I should take stray cats in more often,” he chuckled when Newt finally let him breathe again. “That was really nice.”
“You’re really nice,” Newt retorted, pecking him one more time. “You took the cat.”
“Yes, I did,” the writer confirmed it, even though a little confused what was so amazing about it.
“I saw it this morning,” Newt clarified, still smiling brightly. “And I put an umbrella there and a scarf, but couldn’t take it, but then I got back for it and it was gone-,”
“Oh!” Thomas suddenly piped. “The scarf! I thought it looked familiar, you’re amazing!”
“But how did you find it?” the blond suddenly realized the flat and the spot where the cat was placed had quite a distance between each other.
“I thought I’ll take you out for lunch,” Thomas shrugged, gently caressing Newt’s hips now. “But then the cat… and Minho texted me with some weird stuff too.”
“Oh, don’t start on those two,” Newt rolled his eyes and Thomas blinked in surprise. “They came to my work this noon, taking me out, interrogating me about the engagement and the wedding. As well as sex positions and some fucked up suggestions of how should a blowjob go.”
“They?” Thomas croaked out, barely stifling his laughter and Newt pinched his arm, reprimanding him.
“Minho and Brenda,” he replied with a sigh and Thomas snorted.
“Figures. She wanted to see the ring?”
“Yeah, her squeals of delight are still alive in my mind,” Newt nodded with a cringe and then froze when he felt something sharp on his toe.
“What?”
“I think the cat is biting my toes.”
“She came out!” the writer cheered and the biting disappeared. Newt glanced back; just to see the cat scrambling under the couch again.
“You scared it,” he told Thomas and the brunet whimpered. “Maybe it will come out for milk?”
“I tried that,” Thomas mumbled and Newt finally sat back on his heels, helping the writer to sit up as well. “She didn’t even come close to it.”
“Is it a girl?” Newt bended over again, looking under the couch worriedly. The kitten was in the far back, looking at him with wide eyes.
“Yeah,” Thomas looked as well. “The vet said so. About 4 months old.”
“You took her to the vet?” Newt looked at him in wonder and the writer shrugged, straightening back.
“Thought it’s better to take her there first, yeah? See if she is alright and all.”
“God, I really love you,” Newt breathed out in awe and kissed his cheek softly. “You think of everything.”
Thomas only hummed, his expression dreamy, and held Newt close for another kiss, this time a little longer and surer.
“We just need to get her from under the couch,” he nodded towards the furniture after and Newt chuckled.
“She’ll come out eventually,” he noted and slid his arms around Thomas’ neck. “You’ll see.”
“What else will I see?” Thomas rumbled lowly and Newt grinned.
“My appreciation of your good deeds?”
“Sounds awesome,” the writer agreed and caught Newt’s lips again.
The cat came out an hour later and licked Newt’s hand which was hanging over the couch where he fell asleep, cuddled by his fiancé.
***
“What are we going to do with her?” Newt asked, holding the furball on his lap while Thomas was putting food for her into the smallest bowl he could find. She was biting his fingers playfully and pawing them when he moved, leaving pink trails in its wake. But Newt thought it was still better than left her going around the flat, shredding it to pieces. She already attacked drapes that reached the ground, magazines that were at the lowest shelf and shoes on the mat in the hallway. She seemed to be a little wary of any fast move they did still, sprinting back under the couch when she got startled enough and leaving the cover after another hour of hiding. She took a liking to Newt the most, constantly attacking his hands in a playful manner, but got stiff or ran when Thomas approached.
“And how should we call her?” another question and Thomas finally put the bowl down, cautiously pushing it towards the couch.
“Good question,” he mused, dipping his finger into the bowl and holding for the kitten to smell it and taste it. The animal turned away at first, but it apparently smelled good enough (or she was hungry enough to put the pride away) that she licked the offered food cautiously and searched for more. Newt slowly put her on the floor at the bowl and it took her several tries before she felt like it’s alright and started eating.
“She reminds me of Brenda. Kind of evil,” Newt pointed out and Thomas snorted while he sat next to the blond, watching the kitty eating.
“I think she is more like Teresa, took a liking to you,” he commented and Newt chuckled.
“Well, that’s scary,” he leaned back to the couch, watching the kitten from there. “So what? Tenda? Bresa?”
Thomas laughed at the suggestions with almost teary eyes and Newt had to admit that a combination of those two girls would prove deadly, even with the name style. The cat meowed at them as if in rebuke and it made them laugh even more.
***
“Don’t you want a cat?”
“A cat?” Teresa raised an eyebrow and stopped eating for a while. “You have a cat?”
“Yeah, we got one yesterday,” Newt sighed, stretching his hands towards her as a proof. He was scratched terribly, even though it didn’t hurt, but it looked atrocious. “She jumped on drapes and hang there. For half an hour.”
“Do you have a spider cat?” Alby laughed in amusement, checking Newt’s right hand curiously. It was scratched the most. The blond pulled out his phone, searching for a video he made and pushed it towards them.
“Watch this. It’ll give you an idea of what kind of cat we have.”
Tenda, as they started to call her, aka The Shredder, had a hyper stroke during the evening. She kept on running from room to room and jumping so high Newt thought she had springs in her paws. Then she dragged the toilet paper and played with it until it was everywhere. Newt didn’t know because he was taking a shower and Thomas, that huge dork, just let her do it and only recorded it with fits of laughter.
Another thing on the video was when Newt lied on the couch. The kitty was crawling over his leg in a slow, deliberate pace, hypnotized by his hand swinging in front of her. Then he made a shooting noise and the kitty jumped so far away he laughed for 5 minutes straight.
They managed to tire her out around 11 PM, both completely out of it, and she slept on Newt’s shirt in the corner of the couch. Newt was never happier to see the bed and fell asleep right the moment his head touched the pillow.
“She is so cute!” Teresa squealed. “Where did you get her?”
“In a box on the street. I saw her in the morning, but when I got back, she was gone. Because Thomas took her already,” Newt smiled when they gave him the phone back, turning the video off. Teresa made an “awww” noise and Alby chuckled. Both of them couldn’t take her in, but Newt didn’t give up hope anyway.
***
“She peed on my laptop.”
“She did what?” Newt stopped in the middle of taking off his shoes when Thomas dropped the bomb and then did a double take when he realized he is also looking at Brenda and Minho sitting in the living room, grinning at him wickedly. “And since when we invited the inquisition?”
“Rude,” Brenda booed and snorted at the same time Newt felt something jumped on him and clung to his trousers. Tenda started climbing up like a Tarzan and soon she reached his shirt and he picked her up, holding her further. Her little claws hurt.
“I put it for repair, so someone had to take care of her,” Thomas approached him with a smile, kissing him hello.
“And either of you want to take her home?” Newt scratched the cat behind her ears and she purred loudly, making Newt smile.
“I thought we are keeping her?” Thomas blinked in surprise.
“She just peed on your notebook,” the blond opposed, but the writer shrugged like it was no big deal.
“Well, I-,” Brenda started but Minho put a hand on her mouth to shut her up.
“Don’t even think about it, you homeless,” he told her. “Where would you even put the thing? In your pocket? On your head?”
“Since you mentioned it, I need gloves, the winter is coming,” she tore his hand away, making a biting gesture on it, and Minho tsked and sat a little further.
“I’m rarely home, the cat would suffer there,” he concluded a little apologetically. “But hey, this lazy ass is home all the time, she is fine in here.”
He didn’t even need to say Thomas’ name for it, and the writer only rolled his eyes.
***
Newt was more a dog person, personally. He liked cats, but dogs were cuddlier and less like Brenda and Teresa mashed together in an animal. He tried so many people, asked if they want a cat, but most of them already had an animal, or just didn’t have time, so around the evening he gave up and went for a shower, leaving Thomas in the living room with Tenda under the couch again.
When he came back, a cute image unfolded in front of him. Thomas apparently fell asleep while watching Jurassic park and Tenda crawled out at some point and nestled on his chest, curled in a ball. The scene was so adorable Newt had to snap a photo of it and send it to every possible person with a short text.
“We are keeping her.”