Chapter Text
"Another long day?" were the first words Khun Aguero Agnis thrown his way when he opened their apartment door.
His roommate was lounging on the couch, MacBook spewing some kind of research and calculations. He was still in a crisp white shirt, blue hair styled professionally back, though the tie and blazer hung limply at the back of the couch.
Bam looked to his fishbowl, and yes, there was some trace of feed in it.
"Good evening, Mr. Khun. Thank you for taking care of my pets. How was your day?"
"Boring," the blunet gestured off-handedly, "and loud. The gator can't keep his tail to himself."
Khun grimaced, thinking about the honest-to-god crocodile in their honest-to-god bathtub that Bam is feeling sympathy for and keeping in his apartment, for some reason.
Bam knows Khun hates that crocodile. But he also knows that such a dangerous pet is illegal and they would have been found out long ago without Khun leveraging his family’s influence. Bam is taking that as a permission to keep Mr. Rak, even if it means they have to take cold showers because soaking in a hot tub is out of the question.
Besides, the crocodile seems to have a strange protective affection for both of them.
"Oh," Khun suddenly added, like it was the most normal thing in the world, "I just bought my third company today. You'd better call me Mr. Millionaire.”
“!!!” Bam, in the motion of changing out of his vet scrubs, bit his tongue on his response.
Third company? Bam knew Khun launched his mysterious startup company some time in late high school, but they’re only 23, for goodness’ sake.
Then Khun turned from the couch to look at him, wearing that oh-so-smug expression, and that brought a wide smile onto Bam’s innocent face.
"That's AWESOME, Mr. Khun!" Bam gushed enthusiastically, and Khun raised his eyebrows. “Really. Wow.”
“Well, this is just the beginning, anyway. I have corporate structures to overthrow, but before that…” And with that his annoyingly rich roommate trailed off and turned back to his laptop, fiddled with it for a second, and clicked it shut.
“Finish changing, Bam. We’re going to grab something to eat in celebration, and I’m buying you a new outfit for the one that the red retriever ruined.”
From the look of his predatory grin, Bam surmises that his roommate is very pleased with himself— an ideal state of things.
(It also means he is now forgiven for the incident a few days ago, when a red golden retriever guide dog— her name was Hwarun, and the owner assures them that she is usually very nice and reliable— suddenly turned itself on Rachel on the street, and Bam launched himself in the way on impulse, and things got a little bloody.)
Bam threw his drab veterinary student clothes into the hamper, then shrugged on a plain black shirt and camel pants. These are more his color.
By the time he blinked his golden eyes in the mirror and deemed himself ready, Khun had washed the gel from his hair, the still-damp locks arranged carefully in the way Bam’s used to. He’d put his tie loosely back on, and they were college students again, heading out to grab dinner after another day of hard work.
“Are you ready, Bam?”
And he nodded, smiling. “Let’s go.”
Khun stepped into the establishment, and immediately quailed at the sight.
This is not a good idea.
Bam, however, rushed in and looked right at home. Already cats of all sizes and shapes nuzzled up to him, and he was beaming a golden smile that could rival the sun.
Khun paid the entrance fee for both of them and dropped a couple of bills into the donation box. A flustered waitress tried to stop him... and technically she's right. He's the CEO now— her boss’ boss’ boss— so he could enter whenever he damn want— but it was just a paltry sum of money, and for a cause Bam believes in.
The waitress finally accepted the payment, and regaining her professional smile she led them to a table.
Khun looked at the rather-too-cute-looking chair that was supposedly his seat, flinched at what they must seem like right now from an outsider's viewpoint, looked at Bam, then finally sigh and sat.
They were officially customers of a cat cafe.
"Please order at the counter if you want anything, misters." The girl said brightly and turned to leave. "And don't forget to enjoy all the kitties."
Oh, Bam is enjoying it all right. He's right at home with animals.... which is legitimate, of course, as he's a vet major. But still.
"I'll go order for both of us, Bam. What would you like?"
“Umm…” Bam said, scratching under a cat’s ear. It purred softly into his hand. Damn, he’s not going to be jealous of a cat.
“Bam?” Khun prompted.
“Maybe a milkshake? I’m full already just playing with these little ones, right, baby?”
Bam was already calling the feline devil ‘baby’!
“Ok… Milkshake and something to eat. Do you mind me choosing for you?”
“……..”
Well, Bam was lost in his own world, so Khun takes that as a permission and went to the counter to place his orders. Despite officially being a cafe, Khun was unsurprised to find that they have a good selection of proper meals and even a passable residence cook in addition to the patisserie.
As he was waiting for his credit card payment, something moved between his ankles, and Khun almost jumped.
It was, of course, a cat. A small curly ball with thick furs the color of Khun’s hair. Even his sharp feline eyes were deep blue, just like him. Khun stood frozen and stared down at the creature rubbing himself on the insides of his legs, not knowing what to do.
“Oh, his name is Ran. He’s a cute fur ball, isn’t he?”
Khun looked blankly at the waitress, who handed back his credit card with a knowing smile.
“I guess?” Khun replied, bewildered. He wouldn’t describe these hellish creatures as cute any time soon. Beneficial, perhaps, because they make Bam so happy, but that’s about the extent of it.
Undeterred by his bemused expression, the waitress continued her elaboration as if Khun had asked. “It’s very weird that he seems attached to you, mister. Normally he’s always quite hotheaded and troublesome. He’s always in fights, especially with Novick, over there.”
The girl pointed to a cat condo in a corner, where a coal-black cat with bright red eyes and neon green collar sat ensconced at the very top. As if on cue, the black cat unfurled himself and leaped down to the floor in two long strides, before propelling himself like a rocket in Khun’s direction, haggles raised and fangs showing.
At his feet, Ran stretched as if bored, then in an amazing show of agility darted to meet his bigger adversary head-on.
Losing interest, Khun turned to thank the waitress, who nodded, captivated with worry while watching the two fight.
Bam, also, has his eyes on the quarrel in the center of the room. It did seem more violent than mere play, but certainly not a serious blood-drawing fight. Bam seemed worry though, which is enough for Khun to consider going over to break the two wrestling balls apart. Then, for a second the brunet’s eyes shifted its focus to Khun, welcoming him back to the table with a smile.
Khun sat down with the milkshake and a black coffee.
“I think the blue kitten is winning.” Bam remarked, once again watching the scuffle. Sure enough, the big black brute soon quailed at Ran’s snap and returned to his place at the top of the condo.
The blue one however, looked to the counter for a full two seconds before making his way to their table, completely unscathed.
“He’s one fiery kitten, if you ask me. Defeating the largest one like that.”
Khun hummed in acknowledgement, more interested in the human with molten gold eyes than a fight between two feline devils. Bam still had one hand buried in a blanket of white fur, scratching the chin, the side of the cheeks, the back of the ears….
His touch seemed so gentle….
“Mr. Khun? Are you alright?” Bam’s voice broke his reverie, and Khun found himself suppressing a flush at his own train of thought. He blinked.
“It’s nothing, Bam. Don’t worry.”
Then, impossibly, without warning, Bam’s face fell. A sad expression does not become his roommate at all. And too much of it, like being too nice, is not good for his heart.
“H- hey, Bam, what’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?” Khun was already rewinding everything he said all the way to last Saturday, desperately overthinking straightforward statements and hidden meanings.
Something had gone wrong. Something he said? What is it? What did he do wrong?
“It’s just that… we’re celebrating your accomplishment, but it seems like I’m the only one enjoying this place. You don’t seem to like cats very much, Mr. Khun.”
Khun blinked, once, twice, and his entire body finally relaxed into the soft cushions.
“Oh, just that. Well, it’s one of the franchises of the business I just bought, so it’s the perfect place to celebrate the acquisition, I’d say.”
And I’m enjoying your company more than I want you to know, though not the cat’s.
At that, Bam’s jaw dropped wide open.
“You…. own a cat cafe?”
“Yes.” Khun laughed. “To be precise, this place is a charity front to find homes for animals. It started out as a non-profit, but a few years ago it’s adopted a business model because the old funding’s dried up. But they aren’t doing very well. I see some potential profit from exploiting animal-lovers like you, so I bought it.”
No, it was not because he’s desperately expanding his businesses in veterinary fields so that their career paths could cross for a bit longer. Not at all.
“That’s… very good of you, Mr. Khun.” Now Bam was beaming at him, and god, it’s so worth it even though this business is failing. Even if everyone warned him it wasn’t a good idea.
That one look was enough to proof that if was the right decision, after all.
Khun crossed his arms, leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and allowed a self-satisfied smirk to adorn his lips. “As I said, it’s for exploiting people like you.”
“Whatever you say, Mr. Khun.” Bam consented in a way that let him know he doesn’t believe that reason for a bit. Hell, Bam always think he’s a better person than he is, while in reality he would never look twice even if a kitten gets hit by a truck.
He was pleased though, more than pleased, and he allowed it to show on his expression. “I knew you’d approve.”
They smiled at each other for a brief moment, until something blue and furry materialized on Khun’s lap and nearly spooked him out of his skin. He really is not use to sudden touches like that.
Then, impossibly, the small cat nuzzled against his thigh.
Khun’s jaw dropped, holding both hands over the creature, not knowing what to do. Should he pat it? Scratch its ears like Bam did? How did he do that again?
Damn, it’s warm, and it tickles.
“He seems to like you, Mr. Khun.”
“His name is Ran.” Khun replied distractedly. His hands are still suspended over the fur ball and his eyes was transfixed over Ran’s every move. Cats are somewhat related to tigers, right? This has got to be dangerous, right?
(Never mind that they are already keeping a crocodile in their bathtub, which is so crazy a danger it doesn't even register on Khun's radar anymore.)
Sensing his discomfort, Bam reached over to touch the cat. “It’s fine, Khun-san. They’re usually not aggressive, and they are used to people.”
As if in immediate defiance to his words, Ran snapped at Bam’s hand as soon as it gets close. Khun plunged out of his indecision with ice in his stomach, clamping his hands over the cat’s body, holding it in place even as it raised its haggles and prepared to launch itself maliciously over Bam.
"Hey!"
The form in his hands was almost liquid, twisting and bending so it was hard to grasp and harder to restrain.
"Stop!"
And the cat, miraculously, ceased to move, looking up at him with a half-pleading, half-disinterested blue gaze.
Feeling a profound sense of connection, Khun said, "Don't ever hurt Bam. I'm not going to forgive you."
And Ran meow at him, and proceed to lie down where he was— which is still in Khun's lap— looking for all the world like he's going to sleep.
Khun looked to Bam for help, and found Bam staring at him dumbfounded.
Don't ever hurt Bam. I'm not going to forgive you.
It rang in Bam's ears, but Khun was lost in the moment, and totally forgot what he'd just said. So all he did was looking helplessly at Bam, his body tense, blue eyes pleading for some divine help in dealing with a fluffy devil taking residence on his venerable lap.
How do I get him off? He mouthed to Bam silently, and Bam doesn't know whether it was because he was afraid of disturbing the cat or because he doesn't want the 'devil' to hear of his plans.
"It's probably ok to talk normally, Mr. Khun. Here, I'll show you how to pet him."
Then Bam reached over once more and caught his hand. And Khun froze solid.
His hand was burning. He was quite positive of it. The fur would catch fire, he knew it as Bam gently guided his hand to rest gently on a spot behind Ran's right ear.
It was so soft.
"And you just stroke it, like this."
And Bam pulled his hand down the cat's skull to his neck and lifted it and placed it again at the beginning.
"Or you can scratch him. Like so. He'll like it, I think."
Khun was looking at his lap. At the cat. At their hands intertwined with each other and with the soft long fur the color of this hair. Within a millisecond he was imagining Bam’s hand in his hair. Damn, he could never concentrate.
"Ok. I— I think I get it."
I can't stand another minute of this without combusting— is what Khun had meant.
Bam didn't let go.
"You can also touch him under the chin and to the sides of the cheeks— here, and here."
Ran purred in sleepy satisfaction. Khun desperately kept his throat clamped to avoid purring himself. His hand is still burning. And Bam is sitting so close. So close.
"Right, ok, why don't you try doing it yourself?"
And Khun couldn't remember a single thing Bam had taught him. After a few seconds of post-test examination— stiff, mechanical efforts at reproducing what had just happened— Bam declared Khun 'hopeless with animals.'
Ran almost turned away from his administrations. And Khun really feels hopeless with animals like Bam said. It’s just not in his genes, perhaps.
"Just remember not to touch his tummy, Mr. Khun, and avoid the back and the base of the tail for now. Don’t worry. You'll get it eventually."
Of course, Khun wasn’t worried, just reeling from the ordeal. He fisted the hand Bam had just touched for so long, felt his cold fingertips against the palm. Feeling bereft and relieved at the same time.
"Ok."
And the waitress arrived with their dishes.
“Turns out I’m really hungry, after all. Thank you, Mr. Khun! I love sweet and sour pork.”
Khun shrugged away the compliment. By comparison his carbonara spaghetti can’t nearly measure up, and the place doesn’t offer anything better.
They eat their meals in silence, reveling in each other’s company, the fluffy cat a snoozing ball on Khun’s lap and several more nuzzling around Bam. It was late, and the other customers had already left, so the place was quiet and peaceful.
It’s been a successful evening, in Khun’s measure. More than successful, if he hadn’t just fantasized that hand-holding business. He burns just thinking about it.
And to rub salt into the wound, he owes that to a certain feline devil.
“So… what are you planning to do about this place, Mr. Khun?” Bam remembers a certain remark about overthrowing a corporate structure.
“Hm, let’s see,” Khun mused, looking around absently, “how about I make everything free?”
“…….Free?”
“Yes.”
“Not because you’re generous, I suppose?” Said Bam, and Khun smirked.
“You know me so well. No, it’s nothing to do with generosity.”
“So?” Bam prompted. He knows Khun likes his theatrics, so he puts a bite of sweet and sour pork into his mouth and waited.
“You’ll know when you know.” Said Khun with a mysterious smirk, and Bam knows he has to take Khun at his words, as always.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll make it work. By the way, what did they make you do to the poor animals today? You seemed pretty exhausted when you came back.”
“Oh, did I?” Bam touched the back of his neck self-consciously. He didn’t think he was that easy to read, but then, very little escapes Khun’s attention, even though he might seem nonchalant.
“It’s just that we.... lost a patient today. I mean, I had to euthanize a cat— she— the owner just can’t afford a costly surgery, and we contacted some animal shelters but none of them have the financial means to invest in one old cat… Many of them are already too overcrowded and even considering mass euthanasia themselves—“
Bam’s face was horrified, and Khun knows that these matters don’t sit well with Bam in the first place. He can’t accept killing an animal when just a surgery would have been enough to save it— no matter how expensive that surgery is.
Bam probably begged to help the cat himself or pay for the operation, but with his current financial situation it would probably overshoot his means so much he just couldn’t get allowance for it.
“Anyway, it— it was horrible, but it’s okay, Mr. Khun. It’s just part of being a vet, I suppose. It’s like being a doctor for children, only people can kill pets if they need to.”
“Bam…”
“I’m really okay…”
The brunet gave Khun a wane smile, face pallid and food forgotten, and something in Khun’s heart twisted. The cats around them, as if sensing Bam’s distress, started to rub themselves against his legs and meow-ing their condolences.
Khun fished a business card out of his shirt pocket, and slid it across the table.
“Next time this happens, call my business number.” He said, locking gazes with the veterinarian, “I’ll take care of it.”
And as briefly as that, Khun lapsed deep into calculations, and Bam’s mouth dropped open.
Khun never, ever, ever give his business number to Bam, on the basis that he didn’t want interruptions during the work day. Bam was free to call his personal number but Khun usually doesn’t have it with him when he’s being a CEO. And now Khun is offering it to him, so easily. Along with a humongous amount of money literally at his beck and call.
No matter how Bam turn it around in his head, it was way, way too much to ask of a friend.
“But Mr. Khun—
“How many cases of this do you think happens each month?” Khun mused over him as if he couldn’t hear. According to a google search, he could easily estimate the cost of surgery to be anywhere between $400 to $5,000—
“We can probably afford about 2-10 cases each month… I know that wouldn’t be nearly enough, but you couldn’t be so unlucky as to get more than that on your hands, could you?
“No— But, Mr. Khun—
“I mean it, Bam.”
Khun was leaning over the table, shoving his face into Bam’s, so that he was the entire world. The entire moment. Intense blue eyes seized golden ones, and Bam found that any arguments he might have voiced had died in his throat.
Ran hissed in anger, having been dumped unceremoniously on the ground, but the two humans completely ignored him.
“You don’t have to kill anything. They are going to be saved— you are saving them all. And I’m going to help.” He punctuated the word with a fore finger poking at Bam’s chest. “That’s why you became a vet in the first place, wasn’t it?”
Bam nodded weakly, looking sideways and trying to lean back to put some distance between them. He needed to clear his head, and the look in Khun’s eyes isn’t letting that happen.
“Alright,” Khun continued, finally withdrawing, “end of story. Now, listen very carefully. That was for next time. Today, though, you’re going to support my business by paying an adoption fee, and we’re saving a kitten’s life by getting it out of an animal shelter, and you’re going to consider your conscience completely cleaned, understood?”
Again, Bam give a weak nod. Then, grimacing as if he tasted something bitter, Khun added, “Let me throw in…. a week of feeding duty for that cursed crocodile on the deal too. Got it? Geez, I’m going to get my hand bitten off some of these days.”
And Khun stood with a huge theatrical sigh, put his hands in his pocket, and started in the direction of the counter.
Looking over his back, he said to Bam, “Now, you finish your meal and choose the lucky kitty. I’m going to take care of the papers for a minute.”
And he disappeared deeper into a building, where the sign said ‘Cat Care Workshops and Adoption.’
So they’re a shelter as well as a restaurant… was Bam’s thought as he slowly digested both the food and Khun’s bewildering actions.
By the time Khun came back to the table Bam was in a much better mood, again playing with what seems like a dozen clingy cats at once, laughing as one of them rubbed against his torso and tickled him.
“Have you made your choice?” Khun asked, scanning the potential candidates and not liking them very much at all.
Why did he suggest adopting a cat again? Ah, right, so Bam doesn’t feel so guilty having euthanized that cat earlier today.
He’s going to be regretting that suggestion for the rest of the cat’s life.
“I’m choosing between her,” Bam said caressing the cat that tickled him earlier, “and Ran.” At that Bam pointed his chin in Khun’s direction, and he noticed the fluffy kitten again circling his feet and pressing against his ankles.
“He really seems to like you, after all.” And Bam beamed at him. “I’ll let you be the final judge.”
Registering the weight of the decision (on his own sanity in the foreseeable future), Khun eyed each candidate critically.
Ran was…. fluffy. And warm. And wasn’t too friendly to Bam.
The other cat has a lithe body with short white fur, and disconcerting blue irises. She also can’t seem to stop touching Bam somewhere, circling him, sniffing him, rubbing against him…
It didn’t even benefit thinking.
Khun mechanically picked the fur ball at his feet up to face-height— by the tail.
“Hey, little mouse-catcher. You’re Khun Ran now. You’d better stay cordial to Bam and use that fighting abilities to the utter detriment of our rodent enemies, alright?”
To which Ran hissed, the shop keeper stared in horror, and Bam laughed.
“Mr. Khun, that’s no way to pick up a cat.”
As they were leaving, the keeper insisted that Ran stays here until Khun is ‘better-trained’ to be a cat owner. They were only able to bring him back because of Bam’s assurances that he’s a vet student and he would be the one handling the cat until Khun becomes a little better at it.
Still, they couldn’t entirely get off the hook as Khun has to come attend cat-care workshops every Saturday for five weeks.
The only thing stopping Khun from selling this shop off the highest bidder is Bam’s promise to accompany him each time. (Because Khun was short circuiting— five weekly dates with Bam!?)
And they finally got out into the night air— Khun bristling, ironically, like a cat.