Chapter Text
“Honestly, you could help, Drew,” Neil mused.
“I am helping,” Andrew reasoned from his seat inside a Walmart grocery trolley. In Neil’s opinion, he was doing all the work, pushing them through aisle after aisle, relying on their trusty grocery list – Andrew – to point out what they needed. Andrew however was busy grabbing treats off the shelves; they collected in a pool of future cavities on his crossed legs. “I’m picking what we need.”
He was in fact not picking what they needed. He waited until they passed through an isle of what they needed to then inform Neil that they needed it. Shopping was taking twice as long, and half their picked groceries was junk food – the only thing Andrew was being proactive about.
Neil looked down at the trolley and their scant belongings. A six-pack of 2-minute noodles, a few bottles of bottled water, cheese, margarine, bread rolls, fabric softener, a 36-pack toilet paper pack (because Andrew declared that Neil was ‘full of shit’), toothpaste, and what looked like any junk food Andrew could reach from his self-proclaimed trolley-throne.
They only had a fraction of what they needed, and if Andrew was planning on staying in their trolley, they were going to run out of space for actual groceries.
Still, the domestic bliss that was Neil being able to go grocery shopping with his boyfriend, for their new home, because they could buy a house now the Japanese Mafia weren’t actively trying to murder him, warmed his heart.
Neil sighed, he was not going to ask Andrew to get out of the trolley, he knew. He’d just have to come grocery shopping again tomorrow for whatever essentials they don’t get today. Preferably alone. Maybe he’d ask Andrew to actually write the list down this time.
After all, this hadn’t been a planned trip. Neither of them could sleep, both kept up having feelings they couldn’t understand about the house they bought and were moving into tomorrow. The LED numbers on Neil’s watch blinked, 11:53. About an hour ago, they’d gone to Andrew’s car and took to the road with no predetermined destination in mind. They ended up outside Walmart, grocery shopping for stuff to put in the house. That’s what people did, right?
Neither Neil or Andrew were the type to be in this position – home ownership and grocery shopping – before. Neither of them knew how this worked.
They paid for their odd assembly of groceries and headed to the parking lot. Neil pushed the trolley – which was now much lighter without Andrew. Neil had just settled in the Maserati and was about to clip his seat belt when Andrew’s hand froze with the key mid-way to the ignition. He was silent and still, eyes far away – Neil realised he was listening carefully.
Neil’s fight-or-flight instincts and years of trauma told him to be anxious. But Andrew looked more curious than murderous and he wasn’t reaching for his knives. Neil watched him closely. He didn’t look suspicious, or even concerned. If anything, his expression was one of fascination – that momentary flash of unguardedness before his mask of indifference came back up.
Andrew didn’t say a word, but he unclipped his seat belt and opened the door, stepping out of the car. He was out of view a moment later. Neil leaned over the centre console to see what Andrew was up to. Andrew was on his knees on the tarmac, searching under the car – car trouble? Not Neil’s strong suit unless you counted blowing the car up, but Andrew was good with cars. Neil got out of the car and went around to check on Andrew.
As Neil reached him, Andrew rose up to his feet with a kitten in each hand. Andrew said nothing at all. His face betrayed no emotion Neil could identify. He stared at Neil as if waiting for Neil to follow his cue. This didn’t usually happen but in this instance, Neil did not actually know what his cue was.
“Watcha got there, Drew?” Neil asked hesitantly.
Andrew gave him a flat look.
“Yes,” Neil continued, “Cats – kittens, I see that. But, like, why? … what do we do with them?”
At Andrew’s silence, Neil looked around the parking lot, “were they just in danger under the car? Should we just put them under a tree there?” he pointed at a tree at the far end of the parking lot. Andrew was not particularly chatty at the moment so Neil turned back to him for an answer, to see that Andrew looked horrified by the suggestion.
Neil sighed, pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket. He googled the location of the nearest animal shelter, praying there was something open 24/7. He accepted that tonight's midnight adventure would involve more cat relocation and fewer blowjobs.
“Okay,” Neil read the map, “there’s an animal shelter about 13 minutes away. It’s about 40 minutes from Columbia in the opposite direction but we don’t have – hey!!?” Neil shrieked as his phone was snatched from his grasp and thrown into a nearby shrub. He looked up at Andrew in surprise, Andrew had freed up his throwing hand by transferring one of the cats to balance between his chest and the other arm that held the second cat.
Neil pinched the bridge of his nose.
Many people thought Andrew didn’t care about anything. They interpreted his silence as apathy. Neil knew just how extra his boyfriend was when he cared – which was more often than you’d think.
“Okay, Drew. Remember when we spoke about communication?”
“We’re not leaving them at a shelter,” Andrew said simply. “If they can’t find homes after a while, they put cats down”
Neil frowned, “Okay, fair enough. Are they wild cats? I was considering setting them up under that big tree over there, will they be fine if we just … put them back where we found them,” Neil paused – Andrew was looking at Neil like he’d suggested they hand the cats over to a taxidermist. “I didn’t mean under a vehicle,” Neil clarified.
Somewhat belatedly, and far later than it ought to have, realisation dawned on Neil. “Drew … you don’t – I mean – do you – you don’t want to keep the cats, do you?”
“I’ll let you name them,” Andrew said immediately. He did a pretty good job maintaining a mostly nonchalant demeanour. But the quickness of his offer told Neil that Andrew wanted this, and was trying to veil how desperately he wanted Neil to agree.
“We’re not … cat people…are we? I’ve never had a pet, do you know what to do with it? How do you keep it alive,”
“ – one of the foster homes I stayed at had a cat, I know the basics. I’ll read up on the rest,”
“Drew, we’re at practice 15 hours a day in season, we travel and have away games all the time, are we the best option for them? I mean don’t you need to, like, feed and water and walk them and stuff,”
“ – they’re not dogs, Rabbit,” There was something different in Andrew’s composure like the glint of hope in his eyes had faded. He was all practicality and business again. He wouldn’t trap Neil into a commitment like this if he didn’t also want it. He tossed the car keys to Neil, “get your phone,” he said as he made his way to the passenger seat. He grabbed his phone from the shrubbery and made his way back to the Maserati where Andrew sat shotgun with two kittens curled up on his lap. He’d programmed the address for the shelter onto the car’s GPS. Neil knew that was for his benefit since Andrew never bothered with the GPS – he always remembered detailed directions.
Tentatively, he took a seat, watching the trio before him. The cats were grey, and orange with white stripes. The grey cat sat still, staring at Neil in a very Andrew-like way that made Neil feel like he was being judged. The orange cat stood on its hind legs, front paws wrapped around Andrew’s wrist as it chewed thoughtfully on his armbands.
Andrew was nonchalant now, unbothered in a way he dealt with most of the world, but very rarely was when it was just him and Neil.
Neil pulled out of the parking lot, light rain drizzled on the windscreen activating the automatic wipers. The orange cat seemed mesmerised by this.
“I’m surprised they’re not trying to escape,” Neil commented, “they don’t know us.”
“They’re not idiots.”
“That cat is looking at me with judgement.”
“That’s his face.”
Neil sighed. On the receiving end of both Andrew and the cat’s looks of judgement, he realised that he was the idiot. He reached out and cancelled the trip on the navigator.
“King Fluffikins.” Neil solemnly said, realizing he could never really turn Andrew down when he wanted something. Andrew so rarely wanted something.
“hmm?” Andrew turned to Neil, looking dazed as if induced out of a cat-induced trance.
“You said I could pick a name.”
“If we were keeping them.”
“Yes.”
“Neil.” Andrew berated. “What are you saying.”
Neil turned in his seat to face Andrew. “We can keep them. You clearly want them, we can keep them.”
Andrew began to shake his head, “I won’t force you,”
“ – you’d never,” Neil agreed, reaching out to stroke the orange cat's head as it unravelled a thread on Andrew’s armbands. Andrew surprisingly didn’t seem to care. “I’m agreeing. We can keep them.”
“You said we don’t have the time.” Andrew countered, Neil didn’t know why he was fighting this now.
“We don’t. But I’ll try making a few less dumbass decisions a day,” Neil strategized, “you’ll have more time to walk the cats if you’re not cleaning up after me constantly.”
Andrew spent all his time taking care of everyone else. If this was something Andrew wanted, that was enough to convince Neil that he wanted it to.
“You don’t walk cats,” Andrew reiterated. He looked up at Neil, not quite smiling, but his eyes were soft. “I’ll make time to take care of you too when. You undoubtedly proceed to make dumbass decisions.”
“The judgmental one is King Fluffkins, you should name the orange one.”
Andrew was quiet for a moment. Thoughtful. “Are we really keeping them?” he asked, his tone soft and serious. “You didn’t want to. I would never force you. We can take them to the shelter,it’s okay. I’ll post them on my Instagram, they’ll get adopted tomorrow. I’ll post them on your Instagram, they’ll get adopted tonight.” Andrew looked up at Neil, “I don’t want to name them if we end up giving them up. I don’t do well with temporary.”
Neil mentally kicked himself for even considering taking this away from Andrew.
“I would never let you love something and then take it away from you,” Neil stopped petting the orange cat to pet Andrew’s head instead. “We are keeping the cats. Lets go back in and get some supplies – whatever you want, or think they might need. You are naming Garfield and we are taking them to our new house. It can be the first night home for all four of us, what’s a day early.” He cupped Andrew’s cheek, “besides, Aaron is allergic to cats. They will keep him away, that sounds like a win-win to me.” Neil smirked.
“Not Garfield,” Andrew cringed, “be reasonable, Neil.”
“Okay, okay, what do you want to name him?” he took the orange cat from Andrew, “he kind of looks like me honestly, same hair colour,”
“Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.” Andrew said, seriously.
Neil looked at him. The love of his life. The saviour of it, too. “Sir for short.”
Andrew very nearly smiled. “King and Sir.”
“Nicky is going to be so mad,”
“He’s going to say we waited for him to leave the continent to get cats,”
“Aaron will think we planned this,” Neil laughed, “adopting cats the night before we move out,”
“It is awfully suspicious that one of the first thoughts that occurred to you is that Aaron won’t be able to come over,”
“Luckily we are moving out though, so you can adopt them.”
“I’d have adopted them anyway.”
Neil knew that wasn’t true. Aaron and Andrew had worked through much of their animosity since University, and even then Andrew always took care of his brother. Aaron was, in fact, extremely allergic to cats.
“I’ll lock them in the guest room when he comes over,” Andrew continued
They had a guest room now. Two bathrooms. A big glass shower and bathtub. They had a porch and even a porch swing, Andrew had picked it out himself.
They were starting a life together, with a sense of permanency neither of them had ever experienced before.
And now they had pets.
“The room he’ll be sleeping in if he comes to stay?”
“Well, I assumed he’d be a gentleman and let Katelyn have the guest room and he’d sleep on the couch. But I’m all for equality and letting Katelyn crash on the couch. Unless he comes without her, which is probably preferable,” Andrew rambled on in excitement, “maybe this will initiate that,”
Neil watched Andrew curiously.
“No one will be canoodling in our house but us,” he elaborated. “any couples who decide to spend the night can rock, paper, scissors for the bed.”
Neil laughed, “I don’t think we can really ask Nicky or Erik to take the couch, seeing as we’ve been canoodling in his house for the last three years,”
“We did not canoodle for at least the first year,” Andrew countered. “We made out and then I sent you on your merry way.”
“You were the little spoon.”
“Big words coming from a bottom,” Andrew smirked, getting out of the car, two kittens in the pocket of his hoodie
“Power bottom,” Neil mumbled, his ears flushed as he followed Andrew back into the store.
“Shh,” Andrew head-butted Neil’s shoulder lightly, “not in front of the kids.”
The fluorescent lighting was bright, but Neil’s eyes were brighter as he put an arm around Andrew, pulling him close.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Andrew muttered.
Neil smiled, “But you’re my answer,” he pulled Andrew to the pet aisle.