Work Text:
“Jonathan Jon Jarchivist Sims, do not touch that!”
Jon’s head swivels towards Tim’s voice, his hand hovering above the rim of the potted plant he definitely wasn’t about to tip over. He’s frozen for a moment, before he finally starts to move, shifting on his haunches to try and flee the scene.
Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough. Tim is able to reach him and scoop him up before he can start crawling, wrapping his arms around his middle and lifting him off the floor. Jon’s indignant squawk is not enough to deter him from flipping him onto his back in his arms, effectively cradling him as he stares down at him with a very stern expression.
“Bad kitty, you’re such a bad kitty!” Tim says scoldingly, but that does not stop him from rocking Jon in his arms like a baby. “So, so bad!”
Jon mraps at him, batting at Tim’s nose. Tim sure seems mad, but the way he’s rocking him is very nice, so needless to say Jon’s receiving some mixed signals here.
Tim scowls, continuing to rock him oh so gently. “Terrible boy. Terrible kitty. How dare you.” He pauses, and then aggressively pecks a kiss to his forehead. “Little monster.”
Jon stares up at him for a moment, trying to get a read on the situation. Then, he starts to purr, his chest vibrating with the sound.
Tim scoffs. “Naughty boy. Do not purr. This is a punishment.”
Suddenly, someone barks out a laugh in the background. Martin pokes his head in from the kitchen, a bright grin on his face.
“That doesn’t seem like a very effective punishment,” he says.
Tim scoffs again, turning around to face him. “Like you know anything about punishment. You’re far too soft on him. That’s why he thinks he can get away with such atrocities.”
Martin laughs again, light and airy. “Tim, he’s smiling. That’s a happy baby you have there.”
Jon is, in fact, smiling. He’s purring, and he’s smiling, his thumb lazily in his mouth. Tim looks down at him and frowns dramatically, shaking his head.
“You’re spoiled,” he says scornfully. He kisses his face again, peppering them all over his cheek. “You’re so very spoiled.”
Jon meows, reaching up with both hands and grabbing at Tim’s cheeks. It effectively breaks him out of his bit, and he breaks out in a huge smile, unable to hide the adoration shining in his eyes.
Martin rolls his eyes fondly. “Ridiculous,” he says, shaking his head. “Absolutely ridiculous.”
“Heyyyy,” Tim protests, leaning down and pressing another kiss to Jon’s face. “To be fair, he’s very adorable. He’s just also very troublesome.”
“But not bad,” Martin clarifies. “Not really.”
“No,” Tim sings, “just a brat. The biggest little brat I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Martin laughs again. “You take that brat and go wake up Sasha, dinner’s almost ready.”
Tim hums, bouncing Jon lightly in his arms. “Alright. Let’s go jump on Mama, kitten.”
“No! That’s not what I said!” Martin says with a huff of a laugh, throwing up his hands.
Unfortunately, his cries go unheeded, as Tim is already rushing off, baby in arms. Martin sighs, shaking his head at the two of them, and then heads back into the kitchen to finish cooking.
Sasha is half-awake when she hears the door open.
She quickly becomes fully awake when she feels something warm and bony land gently on her chest. She lets out a soft oof at the impact, and opens her eyes to find Jon’s sweet little face staring down at her.
“Hey precious,” she says softly, her voice still crackly with sleep. She reaches up and scratches him behind the ear, and he leans so sweetly into her hand for her efforts.
“Your precious tried to knock over the plant again,” Tim says from the end of the bed, sitting on the edge by her feet. “He’s been a brat cat.”
“Awww,” Sasha coos, pressing a kiss to Jon’s forehead. “Have you been a brat today?”
“Yes!” Tim says, exasperatedly.
Sasha gives him a gentle kick, tapping her foot against his hip. “I’m not asking you,” she teases. She turns back to Jon and finds him looking down at her with wide eyes, his chest rumbling against hers. “Well? Have you?”
Jon stares at her for a moment. Then, he mews, headbutting her lightly in the mouth.
“Mhmm,” she says, pressing another kiss to his forehead. “I see.” She looks over at Tim and says, “He’s saying he’s been a good boy.”
“Wooow,” Tim says, shaking his head in disapproval. Sasha laughs.
“Maybe we should just move the plant off the floor,” she says, sitting up in bed and setting Jon in her lap. “Otherwise he’s just going to keep knocking it over. And chewing on it.”
Tim sighs, reaching over and petting Jon’s back. “Yeah, that’s probably not a bad idea,” he says. “Martin’s done making dinner, by the way.”
Sasha nods, letting out a hum. “Alright. I guess we should go get food, then,” she says, bouncing Jon in her lap. “Are you hungry, kitten?”
Jon meows again, reaching up and pulling a strand of her hair into his mouth and chewing on it. Sasha can’t help but laugh, shaking her head and prying it out from his teeth.
“I think that’s a yes,” she says, clicking her tongue out him. “And your Papa was right. You are a brat today.”
Jon huffs, and Tim chuckles in vindication.
“Brat cat, brat cat,” he sings, getting up off the bed.
“Brat cat indeed,” Sasha says, adjusting Jon comfortably in her arms before getting to her feet. “Is the brat cat ready to get up?”
Jon purrs in response to that. Sasha smiles, and she kisses his head.
“Alright, then.”
Tim smiles, and he offers out a hand to her. She shifts Jon slightly on her hip, before smiling back at Tim and taking his hand.