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Carving out the time to decompress from the never-ending demands that came with running a cult was a difficult, but necessary, endeavor for Lambert. Whether in the company of the moonlight or beneath a shaded reprieve from the unforgiving summer sun, they made a habit of reserving at least an hour or two each day to forget their work. They typically spent their personal sabbath reading or meditating, often in the dead of night when their followers were asleep. Thanks to his moon necklace, Narinder joined them more often than not.
The half-moon shone gently through the window, and a slight warmth from a few lit candles drifted throughout the room. The combined light illuminated their shared home enough for the husband and spouse to read silently beside each other on the pillow-soft couch. Narinder rested his veil on the side table as his eyes glazed over a volume of poetry, reminding himself to flip the page every minute or so. He had spent many lazy afternoons immersed in books, but tonight, nothing he read could occupy more of his attention than the cadenced tap-tap-tapping of Lambert’s hoof against the floor, their steady breaths, the warmth of their body beside him.
Lambert, oblivious to Narinder’s restlessness, had maintained the same reading position for the past hour. Narinder, meanwhile, shifted himself every five minutes: first mimicking Lambert with his legs crossed, then with one leg folded in, then leaning against the side of the couch. Repeat endlessly for best results. He wouldn’t mention it, but silently, he willed some invisible force to smack that book from their hand so he could occupy their lap himself. In true feline fashion, Narinder preferred to drop subtle hints to draw their attention to him, knowing full well he wouldn’t be able to pick up on the same signals if Lambert was the one trying to initiate contact.
Yes, subtlety was key. Narinder set his book on the side table and replaced it with a throw pillow to press against his chest. An empty minute passed. He cast a discreet glance back towards Lambert to find them unresponsive.
The tip of Narinder’s tail flicked. Dismayed at their lack of reaction, he brought his knees together and sat upside-down on the couch, still enveloping the pillow in his arms.
After a painful few minutes, Lambert looked up from their book and caught Narinder’s longing stare. The moment their eyes met, he looked away. They barely suppressed the grin that threatened to form on their face. “Nari, dearest, why on earth are you sitting like that?”
“No reason.” Narinder didn’t pout at them. If they suggested he did, he would claw their leg to ground mutton.
Lambert marked their page with an amused sigh and set the book down. “In lieu of rubbing your face against that pillow, it would have been fine of you to just lean on me or something.”
Narinder glanced at them, but did not otherwise move. “I will if you’d enjoy it. Perhaps I’ll allow you to pet my head as well, since you find it so relaxing.”
Lambert raised an eyebrow at him. Any remaining doubts about whether Narinder’s behavior was an elaborate charade to elicit their affection had dissipated. So stealing a kiss from them every day was no issue, but somehow their husband still clung to his pride too firmly to ask them outright. “Nari, we are married. If you want to cuddle together, you can just ask, you know.”
Narinder sat upright, returning the pillow to its proper place on the couch. “I didn’t mention cuddling.” He cracked a teasing smile. “It sounds like you’re the one thinking ahead.”
Lambert snorted a laugh. “Are we going to cuddle or not?”
“Fine, then, if you want to so badly.” Slowly, tenderly, Narinder brought his arm around Lambert to close the space between them and pressed their chests together, wasting no time to plant a kiss on their cheek. He leaned against them delicately, as if he expected them to break under his touch.
Narinder’s charm caught Lambert off guard– when had he become so soft? Their cheeks turned pink, a cheery twinkle in their eyes. “You’re so good to me, Nari,” they whispered, a smug grin escaping them once he nudged the side of their head with his nose.
For now, Lambert had to let Narinder be the one in control. Years of experience had taught them he preferred to receive affection rather than give it, but he would never be the one to soften first. When he wrapped them in a hug and pulled them into his lap, they giggled and gave an eager wag of their tail. They answered by reaching up and running their hand along the side of his face. His winter coat had begun to grow in; Lambert carded their fingers through his silky-soft fur.
“This okay?” Lambert asked, tracing their thumb along his cheek.
“Acceptable.” Narinder’s attempt at distracting them from his slowing blinks crumbled when he buried his face into Lambert’s palm. He opened his mouth to say something else, but the words melted on his tongue and came out as a humming sigh. Slowly, then all at once, he let himself sink into Lambert’s touch.
Lambert bit their lip. Moments like these were difficult to navigate. One move too bold or too gentle, and Narinder would resign his vulnerability. With decades of practice, they knew him well enough to know exactly how to coax out the most tender parts of his love for them without shaking his pride. They reached under his chin and started with a light scratch, sinking their fingers into his fur.
Narinder leaned against Lambert’s shoulder. His breaths found an even rhythm and his tail curled in lazy happiness. When the corners of his lips turned up, they knew the timing was right to place their hand in the space nestled between his ears.
Narinder buried his face in the wool on Lambert’s neck, rubbing the scent glands on his cheek against them. His eyes closed on their own as he felt his heart fluttering. He considered Lambert’s hand atop his head and, impatient for them to make a move, nudged upwards until they stroked him there with the pads of their fingertips.
Lambert whispered the menial details of their day while they pet his head: indoctrinating a new follower, their sermon about nature’s blessings, the rustling of the winter wind through the thinning leaves. Narinder could feel a purr start to rise in his throat. He suppressed its volume so he could hear them speak, but his thoughts were growing fuzzier by the second at their soothing touch. He wasn’t listening to their words as much as the tone of their voice, the singsong lilt he had grown to love. Though his purr was inaudible, he made sure to press himself as close to them as he could manage so they could feel the blissful vibrations running through him.
When Lambert reached to pet the back of his head, Narinder scarcely registered their tone rising at the end of their sentence in a way that seemed to indicate a question. He opened one of his eyes ever so slightly. “…Hm?”
“How was your day, Nari?”
Narinder almost wanted to be annoyed with them for expecting him to speak while he was so comfortable, but couldn’t. He cleared his throat. “…Alright. Nothing of note. Made some tea this afternoon.” He paused to let a rumbling purr escape and closed his eyes again. “…Think it had some caffeine, I worked a bit longer than I usually– mmmm.” Once again, he stopped mid-thought, giving a low, comfortable sigh when Lambert returned their hands to the top of his head and began rubbing at his ears. “Shit,” he breathed, pressing himself further into them.
“Nari?” Lambert stilled their hand, feeling like they should check in with him. “Is this okay?”
Narinder was more than okay. The pads of their fingers stroked the furry backsides while their thumbs massaged soothing circles into his ears, and something about their tender care made him nuzzle his face into their neck. “Don’t stop.”
Lambert resumed petting him with a giggle, and Narinder sighed again. “Damn, that’s… really nice. Perfect, actually.” He whispered a few more incoherent words into their wool before his own purr overtook his voice.
Lambert would have melted back into Narinder if they weren’t supporting his entire body leaning limp against them. They settled for pressing their cheek against his forehead, continuing to stroke his ears. “You are too sweet.”
Narinder opened his mouth, searching for a retort, but quickly gave up. He was too comfortable to do anything except savor the shared moment. A silent minute passed like this; he tried to return their compliment, but his own purring overtook his thoughts and voiced them as a drawn-out “mmrrrrrrrp.” He cracked open an eye to watch Lambert pressing their lips together to keep themself from squealing, and despite himself, pressed his hand against their face to deflate their puffed cheeks. Were he not already in such a cuddly mood, Narinder might have rather dug himself into a hole than deal with the aftermath of that humiliating display. But for now, a slight smile formed on his lips as he pulled his spouse closer to him.
This was a good enough cue for Lambert to let out an airy laugh. “Sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”
Narinder shot a three-eyed glare at them, all sass and no bite, and he batted Lambert’s face again. But their languid strokes to his ears turned into gentle scritches, and the low rumble vibrating through him elevated to a full, thunderous purr. He pushed his head into their hand, burning with adoration.
Outside of this space the couple shared, the world seemed to fade out of existence. Narinder couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed, so safe. He observed this thought and let it drift away like a passing cloud before he could ruminate on it. He was too content to dwell upon anything other than Lambert finding the one spot behind his ear that never failed to elicit a content hum. He leaned into their touch there, silently encouraging them for more.
Lambert wasn’t sure what it was about scratching that one little area, but Narinder’s nonstop purring told them they were doing something right. They resisted the urge to hug him, if only because they didn’t want to disturb the perfect equilibrium they had found here. It was difficult to believe their loving husband who fell apart in their arms was once the ruthless God of Death, feared by deities and mortals alike. And now here he was, shifting himself to press his face into the crook of their neck as he began to knead their wool. The vibrations of his purr resonated through them where their skin met his, and Lambert closed their eyes to focus on the sensation. It was hard to pay attention to that, though, when Narinder made biscuits in their lap. A cheerful bleat escaped them.
“I love you so much.” Lambert couldn’t resist kissing Narinder’s forehead; his third eye instinctively closed. They brought their lips close to his ear and teased softly, “Such a pretty kitty.”
Narinder leaned his head against Lambert’s shoulder. “I will bite you,” he mumbled, his purr adding a gentle vibrato to his voice.
Lambert met his eyes and caught his pupils dilating. “Uh-huh,” they deadpanned, cupping his cheeks.
And then, the instant his pupils dilated, Narinder pressed his entire body into Lambert’s lap. He wrapped his arms around their shoulders, a blush pinkening the tips of his ears.
Lambert’s eyes widened in shock at his sudden rush of confidence. “Ah?”
Narinder silenced his purr to press a flurry of rapidfire kisses into Lambert’s cheek and concluded with one long kiss to their lips. “Mine,” he whispered.
All the air left Lambert’s lungs in a rush. Now it was their turn to be flustered. When Narinder wedged himself back into their neck with a soft meow, their face began burning. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?”
Narinder leaned into them, enjoying how quickly his spouse devolved into a bashful mess as soon as he returned their affections. His tail whipped around behind him with pride. He only meant to close his eyes for a quick second, but Lambert’s hand petted along the length of his back and he sighed before opening them again. He raised his chin to rub his nose against theirs and swiped his tongue over their lips, a quick kitten-lick of a kiss.
Lambert’s cheeks flushed darker. They brought their other hand up to cradle Narinder’s cheek, resting their thumb in the little spot behind his whiskers before petting him there. When he closed his eyes again, they nuzzled back into him and returned the kiss. “You’re so soft. I could just… cuddle you forever.”
“Then do it.” Narinder rubbed his cheek against Lambert’s hand. “Forget the cult.”
Lambert grinned. “I can’t do that.”
“What a blessing that you need only worry about now, then.” Narinder arched his back and stretched a bit before rolling over onto Lambert’s lap.
Lambert eyed Narinder’s exposed tummy and waited for him to make a move. Almost as if to taunt them, he held his hands limp over his chest, and looked up with a daring smirk.
Narinder narrowed his eyes at them when they failed to give the reaction he was hoping for. “Well?”
“I’m not falling for that cat trick. If I reach down now, you’ll maim me.”
Narinder wrinkled his nose in a half-assed, taunting scowl. “Maybe I’ll maim you if you don’t pet me.” He reached up and guided Lambert’s hand to settle it on his stomach.
After a brief pause, Lambert carefully started giving him a gentle belly rub. To their surprise, his purrs returned with renewed enthusiasm, a relaxed but loud rumble. When they stilled their hand and pulled away for a fraction of a second, still wary, Narinder wrapped his tail around their wrist to pull it back to where it was. He wasn’t satisfied until they resumed petting him, little circular motions against his white tunic.
Lambert ruffled the fur atop his head with their other hand. “Sorry. I was afraid you’d try something.” Even now, their heart pounded harder knowing that he trusted them enough to be this vulnerable with them. They started to hum a countermelody to his purring.
Narinder blinked slowly up at Lambert, watching their ears bounce up and down. When they returned his gesture, he butted his head up against their wool and resumed kneading his hands against them. He luxuriated under their touch, letting his eyes close completely. His purr occasionally gave way to a trill or a chirp. He looked up to find Lambert halfway leaning into him, full of hesitation.
“Needy lamb.” Narinder sat up and initiated the hug himself. He reached around them and began stroking their back, and in response, Lambert brought their hand up to give one last scratch to his ear.
Lambert smiled at the way this one little action always elicited some cute response from Narinder; this time he let his ears flick around to catch all his favorite spots under their fingernails. His tail swayed behind him, a relaxed back-and-forth rhythm. When Narinder pressed his face into theirs, Lambert cupped his face between both their hands. They both leaned in together for a gentle, yet passionate, kiss.
“Love you, Lambert.” Narinder’s voice was a bit raspy from his constant purring.
“I love you too, Nari.” Lambert felt Narinder’s tail wrap around their waist, and they smiled, leaning into Narinder’s shoulder with a sigh. “You are so precious, my dear.”
Narinder pressed his head against Lambert’s chest, listening to the pitter-patter of their heartbeat. “I believe you called me pretty, too? And soft?”
“You’re all of those and more.” Lambert brought their hand to the small of Narinder’s back and traced shapes and words into his fleece, all of them sappy: a heart, his name, an I love you.
Narinder’s ears gave one last twitch before his whole body relaxed onto their lap. “My favorite thing to be is yours.”