Archive of Our Own

I.

“I think he likes you,” Dori hears The Human tell The Newcomer. He and his brothers had been playing in the yard, their human overseeing them, when the boy from next door had come over.

Dori continues to ignore The Human as he has been for the last hour, but instead of continuing to paw at the rubber toy that he had been so fascinated with, he goes to busy himself with bumping against said newcomer’s legs. His brothers do nothing of the sort.

The Human is called Lee Minho, and Dori supposes he can be referred to as his and his adoptive brothers’. He’s also known as the man with the food, and the treats, and the one who always cleans up after Dori and his brothers—which maybe should mean that he deserves some of Dori’s attention. Truthfully he thinks there are more interesting things to explore and learn about, and Doongie and Soonie, especially, give him more than enough of their time. He already knows what Minho is about—food, shelter, toys. Besides, in Dori's very humble opinion, he tries too hard sometimes, so every now and then when Minho opens his mouth all Dori can really hear is vague buzzing.

It isn't even until Minho picks him up that Dori realizes the two humans are talking about him. The Newcomer—with the bright eyes, the round cheeks, and smelling vaguely like mint—picks him up off the ground and half coos, half mewls at him. Apparently Dori missed The Newcomer asking if he could carry him.

“You like me? Do you?” He grins and holds the cat at eye level; in turn the cat stares back and wonders—Do I like him?

“Bold assumption,” Minho comments. 

Meow.

The Newcomer laughs, puckers his lips and makes kissing noises at the cat. Dori struggles, but also paws back at the man; he wants to be put down, but he also finds that the man’s cheeks are distracting with how soft they look. Almost like a plush toy.

“See,” The Human answers, something akin to amusement in his tone. “He likes you!”

“I guess I like him too,” The Newcomer agrees.

Meow, Dori repeats.

Despite his attempts at escaping the hold, he complains when The Newcomer places him back down on the floor, whining and stretching right by The Newcomer’s ankles, hoping to be noticed again; maybe even be picked up again so he can try to paw at his face once more. Dori really wants to see if his cheeks have some bounce to them.

“Tch.” Lee Minho scoffs. “He never tries to get my attention like that!”

“Yeah, well.” The Newcomer laughs. “What can I say? I have a magical effect on cats.”

Dori looks up at Minho and notices his expression contort into something. It’s the same expression he wears whenever Soonie hops up on his lap while Minho is on video call with his parents; or whenever he finds Doongie hiding behind the books on the bottom-most tier of his bookshelf; or when he's sprawled out on the couch and Dori climbs on him and attempts to take afternoon naps on his chest because the broad planes of Minho's body are much more ideal and comfortable than the hard bed that has been bought for him. Dori really doesn't understand what the particular look means, but he thinks maybe he's beginning to.

“If you say so,” Minho retorts. There's something that resembles amusement in his tone—and that's it, that's what the look is. Amused fondness.

“All animals, really,” The Newcomer continues, grinning with some kind of cheeky confidence. “It comes with my job.”

“Yeah? Animal whisperer is a paid gig now?” Minho chuckles. “Can you hook me up? Is having three cats—having pets all my life, actually, enough qualification?”

The Newcomer laughs; the same kind of laugh Minho sports whenever he places Doongie on the exercise wheel and the older cat just flops and curls up on it instead of using the contraption for its intended purpose. “I work as a vet nurse,” he explains.

“At the animal clinic downtown?”

The Newcomer nods.

Minho laughs. “That's where I got Dori,” he comments. “Maybe that's why he's so into you. You remind him of his early childhood.”

The Newcomer snorts; bends over to pet Dori on the head, for which he gets a satisfied purr in return.

“This is unfair.” Minho clicks his tongue. “But, I guess—welcome to the neighborhood, Han Jisung-ssi,” he says, and for the first time Dori notes The Newcomer's name, Han Jisung—he must have missed an earlier introduction. “Thank you for the sirutteok.”

It’s only now that Dori notices Minho has something in his hands; food that seems to have been given to him by Jisung—something else he clearly missed happening earlier. He's never really had the best focus, but he doesn't think it's a problem. A byproduct of youth, perhaps—he is the youngest cat in the household.

“Thanks.” Jisung beams, and Dori rubs his face against his legs once more.

“Dori!” Minho tuts at him, sounding a tad exasperated. He finally sweeps in to pick him up with one arm. “Sorry, he isn't usually like this with strangers,” he explains. 

“Well, hopefully I won't be much of a stranger soon enough,” Jisung comments.

“I'm sure this little rascal would love to get to know you until you aren't at all.”

“I hope it isn't just him,” Jisung responds, a spark of something playful in his eyes. “Being strangers is overrated.”

Minho snorts; that's when Dori hears some chirping from a far distance that distracts him. He struggles and easily escapes Minho's hold; jumps away and then he's running off towards the direction of the foreign sound.

From a nearby distance, a sparrow flies out of Minho's yard, and when Dori brings his attention back to the humans, Jisung has already waved goodbye and it's only Minho left, watching as their new neighbor walks off.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Minho thinks his new neighbor is… cute. Very cute, as a matter of fact. He looks not a day over 20, but Minho had been relieved to find out that he's only barely two years younger—and working as a vet nurse, to boot. In another life, Minho would have maybe chosen Veterinary Medicine over the Computer Science degree that he finished in this one.

Back to the point, though—cute and likes animals, Han Jisung is earning himself extra points all around. Not to mention his own cat seems to like him—although Minho is a little on the fence about this one, because Dori loves to ignore him, and Minho had always assumed this was because Dori generally has a very short attention span, never really displaying interest in things for more than a few minutes at a time. And yet he had been pretty eager and focused in vying for Jisung’s attention when the latter had dropped by the other day to bring him a plate of sirutteok—made by his mother, apparently, to give away to his new neighbors. Minho thought it was cute and sweet, and not at all in a Mama's boy way. 

It's early Sunday, on his way back from his morning jog, when he comes across Jisung again. He's wearing rumpled green scrubs as he gets out of his car—a red Kia sedan, a bright colored vehicle rarely seen in the countryside where they live—and he's looking pretty tired; half-dead and barely awake, with heavy bags under his eyes and cheeks that appear doubly puffy. Somehow Minho still finds him cute and adorable.

“Late night?” he casually comments, pausing in front of Jisung's car. The latter instinctively grunts in response, only attempting a smile when he glances up and their eyes meet. “Why are you up so early?” Minho follows up.

“Why are you?” Jisung asks back.

“I always am.” His morning jog is a daily ritual. He mostly works from home, only reporting for work in person at his company's main office in Seoul at most a couple of times every month, if at all, so he makes it a point to get some sun and fresh air every day. For his health, if for nothing else.

“Even on weekends?” Jisung looks surprised.

Minho shrugs. “It's good to start every day at the same time. It keeps my body clock in order.”

Jisung chuckles, looking spent and resigned. “You should teach me how to do that. My daily shift at the clinic starts at 10 every day, but back in Seoul I worked nights, and my internal body clock hasn't quite adjusted yet.”

“I mean if you really want to.” Minho smiles sympathetically. “You should go on morning runs with me.”

Jisung purses his lips, but he also seems to consider the invitation. “Maybe ask me next time, when I'm fully awake and not prone to saying yes just because a cute neighbor asked.”

Minho laughs, but the casual yet flirtatious comment is not lost on him. He feels his ears go warm. “Why are you even up right now? I would assume it's some kind of walk of shame, but—” he gestures at the outfit Jisung is wearing.

“I got paged around midnight last night because a Labrador retriever needed an emergency surgery.” He winces. “Very exciting for my first week at work.”

“Oh.” Minho frowns. He might primarily be a cat person, but that doesn't mean he's unable to feel empathy for dogs; for most animals, in fact, especially ones of the domestic persuasion. “How's the dog?”

“They're okay now. Recuperating at the clinic. It’s my day off today so I clocked out as soon as the worst was over,” Jisung explains.

Minho's smile softens. “You have worked hard, Han Jisung-ssi.”

Jisung's smile widens, looking tired but proud of himself. “Thank you, but actually… Can we drop formalities, Lee Minho-ssi? I feel so drained and the formal speak makes me feel like I have to be on full alert.”

Minho chuckles. “Sure. Call me hyung, then,” he says, quick to relax his tone and wording. 

“Okay. Thanks, hyung.” Jisung smiles, relief etched on his features. “I’ll see you around?”

Minho nods in acknowledgment, but he only manages to move a couple of steps before he stops in his tracks and turns to his neighbor again. An idea has struck, and he figures he'll voice it out before he thinks it over too much. “Jisung-ah!” he calls out, casual, unceremonious, and with no formal honorifics, like they're longtime friends and not brand new neighbors.

“Eh?” Jisung looks back at him.

“Come over later for lunch,” he offers gently. “If you think you'll still be dead asleep by 12, then you can come by around 1. It'll be a late lunch. You deserve good food for being that dog's hero.”

“I only assisted, though,” Jisung points out; Minho thinks there's a shy blush dusting his full cheeks and it's cute. “But, ah—you sure?” He blinks, uncertain.

Minho shrugs both of his shoulders, trying to look as nonchalant as he possibly can. “It's the weekend, and I always cook too much during weekends.” He doesn't know what came over him, inviting Jisung over like this, but he excuses to himself that being neighborly is a great thing.

“I—” Jisung momentarily hesitates, but a smile eventually forms on his lips. “Alright, hyung. I’ll set my alarm to 12.”

“Good. 12:30 then?” Minho suggests; a good compromise to which Jisung nods. “Are you allergic to anything?” he asks; mentally he's already running down through a list of what's available in his fridge and kitchen pantry, considering the various dishes he could possibly make with them. 

“Fine dust,” Jisung answers a little too quickly.

Minho laughs. “I was thinking about food allergies but that's good to know.”

“Oh. Right. Of course that's what you meant!” Jisung blushes even deeper; the warm glow is a nice contrast against his honeyed skin, Minho thinks. “I eat anything and everything,” Jisung continues. “Don't worry about it.”

“Noted then.” Minho smiles. “Sleep well and I'll see you later!”

Minho thinks he can make good use of the ribs he bought the other day and make his special galbijjim. He has just enough time to prepare it so it gets to the perfect point where the meat is practically sliding off the bone. His mother also just sent him a large container of her home made kimchi, along with a few other side dishes like her pickled cucumber salad—he wonders how impressed Jisung will be with such a spread, and then his own cheeks start heating up because why does he care so much?

Because, he thinks resignedly. Jisung is cute, and he's only human.

Meow, Dori purrs as soon as Minho enters his house.

“You agree, don't you?” He coos at his youngest cat, humming as he leans down to pet Dori. The cat is probably just hungry and that's why he's paying attention to Minho for once, but it's funny, because Minho is pretty sure Dori feels the same as he does. “You'll be happy to know the new neighbor will be coming over this afternoon.”

Meow, Dori repeats, and Minho chooses to believe it's out of excitement from the news.

ᓚᘏᗢ

He’s here again. The scent of mint, mixed with something more fruity is what alerts Dori. To be fair he also spots him, Han Jisung, the new neighbor, walking up the pathway leading to the house and he's immediately on alert.

He purrs, stretching before hopping off his spot from window sill and padding across the room to the doorway. There, he preens and waits, expecting to hear the telltale knocking or doorbell that he knows from experience announces the presence of a visitor.

He doesn’t wait long, and when Minho exits the kitchen, drying his hand on his apron as he heads to the door, Dori poses nearby, looking as casual and nonchalant as possible.

Minho had been in the kitchen for the last hour, humming and singing to himself as pots and pans banged. His older brothers, Soonie and Doongie had taken to situating themselves there as well. Understandable because Soonie is most attached to their human, while Doongie has long ago claimed the top of the fridge as his personal throne.

Dori, well… he didn’t really care to hang around the kitchen. Instead, he'd spent the morning playing with the edible grass planted in pots by the window, but now that Jisung has arrived, his curiosity has turned towards the humans again.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Jisung tells Minho, looking sheepish after the door is opened for him.

“You aren't, really. Late, I mean. I did say come around one,” Minho points out.

“And I said I'd be here 12:30.”

Minho laughs. “It's only five past.”

“Still late,” Jisung insists.

Minho smiles—fond, Dori thinks, that's definitely the correct adjective—and he steps aside to let Jisung in through the door. Immediately, Dori stretches, kneading the carpet and wiggling his hind part, which makes Jisung laugh as he notices him immediately.

“Hi, I have something for you,” he coos as he reaches into his pocket from where he takes out a small plush toy that he holds out towards Dori. When he gets a whiff of the toy, he immediately knows it's filled with catnip which turns on a switch in him and has him eagerly swiping it off the human's palm.

“You realize I have three cats,” Minho points out, teasing, “and you only brought a gift for one.”

“Oh, I—ah.” Jisung laughs sheepishly. “I just accidentally picked that up from work to be honest… I'll specifically get enough for three next time.”

“It's okay.” Minho laughs. “But my cats are smart. They can tell when you play favorites, and this won't endear you to the other two.”

Their voices start to fade into the background as Dori paws at his new toy.

“Yeah?” Jisung tilts his head, an amusedly crooked grin spread across his lips. “Which one is yours?”

“They're all mine,” Minho deadpans.

“I meant which one's your favorite!”

“Excuse you—I love my little brothers equally,” Minho declares.

“Little brothers, huh?” Jisung clicks his tongue. “Interesting.”

Minho's brow furrows in defensive confusion. “What— why?”

Jisung laughs. “Most pet owners consider their pets their kids.”

“Well I'm too young to be a Dad.” Minho scoffs. “Besides, I grew up an only child. But we always had pets, and they were always considered my little siblings.” 

”That's cute. Everyone has a favorite though. It's human!”

“I…” Minho hesitates, “don't.”

“See. Right there! You paused!” Jisung grins triumphantly. “You already chose one in your mind!”

“I don't!” Minho insists. “I didn't!”

“Well, how long have you had the three of them?”

“Well, I got Soonie in my last year of high school,” Minho explains. “I was volunteering at a shelter close to my parents’ and he was a sickly cat. They were going to put him down if no one cared for him and I couldn't have that.”

“Which one is Soonie?”

“The fat orange one—oh there he is,” Minho gestures at Soonie who chooses that moment to strut right past them on his way to, presumably, Minho's room.

“He looks healthy.”

“Exactly.”

“I had to leave him with my parents for a while when I enlisted, but I made sure to find a pet friendly place when I moved out during my second year of University—especially since I also got Doongie around that time. And Dori—” Minho waves at Dori who is still busy with his new toy, “You already know I got him from the clinic where you work. You probably already know this—how they gather neighborhood strays and send them to a bigger shelter in the city if no one fosters or adopts them? I met Dori a few months after moving here. That's around three years ago, now.”

“Aaah.” Jisung nods. “Gotcha. I think I know which the favored one is, now.”

Minho narrows his eyes at him. “Shut up. Don’t talk like that in front of them, they might believe you!”

Jisung laughs and shakes his head. “Anyway,” he inhales deeply, “whatever you have cooking definitely smells heavenly.”

“I’ll have you know that it tastes heavenly too,” Minho proudly declares. “Come on.” He starts to lead Jisung to the kitchen, and Dori takes that as his cue to go hide his new toy in the corner of his bed—the only spot in the house that his older brothers know is off-limits to them.

Afterwards, he makes his way to the kitchen where the humans are sitting at the table, having already begun their meal. Doongie is still perched on top of the fridge but Soonie is nowhere to be found, likely now in Minho’s room, lazing on Minho's bed—a privilege that only he has been really afforded. Doongie only ever ventures into the master's bedroom when Minho is there, while Dori himself hardly ever bothers. Either way, he doesn’t think much of Soonie's lack of presence and simply walks up to Jisung, circling and rubbing himself against the human’s legs, before eventually settling down by his feet.

“Okay, I’m definitely jealous now,” Minho retorts.

“He probably knows he isn’t your favorite,” Jisung teases. “You did say they can tell.”

Minho huffs and Jisung just laughs. 

“This is seriously so good, by the way,” Jisung comments as he helps himself to more of the food that Minho prepared. “You’re right, this entire spread tastes even better than I expected.” He beams. “You really cooked all these by yourself?”

“Some of the side dishes are my mother's,” Minho admits. “The braised potatoes are mine though. As is the seaweed salad.”

“Wow.” Jisung sounds genuinely impressed, and if Dori can read his human correctly, Minho seems to silently preen as a result of that. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Minho shrugs. “From living alone. I lived with my parents until my first year of university, but then I enlisted, and I moved out almost immediately after I got back.”

“I live by myself and all I can make is fried rice and like… generally fried anything.” Jisung chortles. “Granted, though, this is my first time living all by myself in my 26 years on this Earth.”

“Where is your family from?”

“Incheon,” Jisung answers. “I used to work at a shelter closer to home, but the job offer from the animal clinic here was too good to pass up. So I packed up and moved. How about you, hyung, where does your family live?”

“Gimpo,” Minho says. “I used to work in Seoul right after I graduated, and I got burned out so fast. My grandparents are from around here and I always liked visiting them when I was younger, so it was a conscious decision to move here. The air is better, and it’s nice to be far away from the hustle and bustle of the city.”

“Don’t your parents give you trouble for choosing to work and live away from them?”

Minho chuckles. “Sometimes, my Mom would call and complain, but my Dad always tells me they’re both proud that I learned to be independent early on. Besides, I always tell her I'll pay for the train ride whenever she  wants to visit.”

“What a filial son.”

“Says the Mama’s boy.”

“Hey!” Jisung huffs.

“It’s not a bad thing, necessarily,” Minho assures him. “Anyway—like I was saying, fried rice is a good place to start. And I assume you can boil a pot of water well enough to make ramyeon.”

“I’m an expert, actually!”

“You’ll learn more dishes as you go along—especially since we don’t really have a lot of fast food in the area, not to mention the nearest convenience store is a thirty minute walk away. Where’s the convenience in that?”

“Well, there’s a GS25 right by the clinic, actually,” Jisung points out.

“Oh, true,” Minho concedes. 

“I dunno though, with a neighbor like you, who needs to learn more? Maybe I’ll just rely on neighborly kindness.” Jisung grins playfully.

Even from under the table, and despite the way he huffs in false indignation, Dori can tell that Minho is pleased by the comment. “Next time the meal won’t be free,” Minho retorts.

“Well I’m sure it’ll be worth every cent you ask for, this food is that good—wait, actually.” Jisung looks around. “Your kitchen seems extra fancy. Do you work in the food industry or something? Should I be paying you?”

“No!” Minho snorts. “I’m a software developer. I told you, I work from home, and cooking is a hobby I picked up because it's something that I could do around the house to destress when I need time away from screens.” 

“Well. Just saying. You can make a living out of this,” Jisung declares.

“Thanks, but I wouldn’t actually want to monetize cooking and make it stressful in the process.”

Meow, Dori interrupts; he's bored already.

“I think he really wants your attention,” Minho says, chuckling. 

“Sorry Dori,” Jisung peers under the table, only very briefly patting his head before picking up his spoon again. “It's Minho-hyung's turn right now.”

Meow, Dori repeats, a little petulant now. Meow, he tries again, before aggressively stomping off in annoyance when the two humans continue conversing among themselves. He really doesn’t think it’s fair of Minho to be hogging Jisung like he is.

II.

It has been a month since someone moved into the house next door. The previous tenants were a single mother and her teenage daughter, and they had lived there for as long as Doongie could remember—which is going on four years now, dating back to when Minho first moved into their house. It was just Doongie and Soonie and Minho at the time, with Doongie himself still a spritely young cat.

He had liked the mother-daughter pair because the girl was sweet, smelled nice and always had an open can of tuna ready for Doongie whenever he wandered over to their yard. He was still adventurous then, at the peak of his youthful curiosity, and the best thing about moving to the countryside had been transitioning into becoming outdoor cats. These days, especially with the neighbors having moved away some months ago, he prefers hiding in the various nooks and crannies of his own human's home. As a mature cat, he gathers he has earned the right and privilege to simply laze around as he pleases.

Roughly a month ago—five weeks, to be more precise—the empty house finally had life breathed into it again. The new tenant was a boy around the age of their human, and he seemed harmless enough to Doongie, even if not particularly exciting or interesting. The youngest, Dori, has taken a clear liking to him, always trying to get his attention when he's around, but the oldest, Soonie, is the complete opposite; he always turns his nose up, disappearing into their human's bedroom whenever the neighbor is over, and he is over an increasing amount.

As for Doongie, he supposes he understands a bit of the appeal—the new neighbor, Jisung, always smells faintly of mint and it's very attractive. Overall, though, he thinks Jisung is… alright. Not as cute or as sweet as the girl from before, but sometimes he would bring them a variety of treats and Doongie never says no to treats when offered. That doesn't stop him from always escaping as soon as he gets what he wants. He’s not one to purr for more attention—that kind of behavior is beneath him. There used to be a time when Dori took after him—at least with Minho, their human—but Jisung seems to have changed him. Dori is still very young, so maybe that's part of it.

But—Doongie has noticed that Minho is the same. He actively vies for the new boy's attention in a way that Doongie has never seen him do before. He finds it amusing because he knows Soonie gets very catty—pun intended—for it. Soonie hates it when Minho gives Jisung too much attention and consideration; when Minho subtly competes with Dori for Jisung's attention. It doesn't help that Jisung seems oblivious to the attempts a lot of the time.

It's one of those weekends when Jisung is over again; he and Minho are on the couch watching a movie that is now familiar to Doongie because he has seen them watch it at least three times in the month they have known each other. He doesn't understand humans and their attachment to things like this; frankly, he gets bored easily of things that humans seem to find entertaining.

But Jisung has sticks of Churu with him, so he hangs around, lounging under the coffee table. Dori, known Han Jisung sycophant, is happily cradled in Jisung’s arms. 

Minho has just stretched an arm to put around Jisung's shoulders, and if cats could laugh, Doongie would probably be guffawing at how obvious their human is acting. Or maybe not. He also doesn't want them to know he cares or notices.

Jisung turns and smiles at him, which causes Minho's ears to redden. When Jisung snuggles closer to him, Dori gets shuffled in his hold which has him snarling; it results in a staring match between the youngest cat and Minho. 

Meow, Doongie calls out. He fixes a communicative glance at Dori; Minho is never anything but kind towards them, and Doongie doesn't like the idea of antagonizing him.

Dori hesitates, mewling with frustration before hopping off. He joins Doongie under the coffee table, and as the older brother, Doongie nuzzles him in consolation.

Jisung gets excited at the sight, and he sits up properly, leaning away from Minho and grabbing his phone so he can try to take a video of them. Once again, Doongie could almost laugh because in his attempts at getting their human the attention he wants from Jisung, calling Dori over instead had the opposite effect.

Minho sighs in defeat and leans back, pulling his arm away petulantly, and somehow, this is how he finally gets Jisung's full attention. The latter smiles and grabs Minho's arm to put it around him again.

This is how they stay for the rest of the movie, and the atmosphere remains generally quiet and comfortable that Doongie eventually starts to doze off.

He stirs just as the credits are rolling, and only because Jisung and Minho's hushed conversation tickles his hearing.

“Hey, hyung, are you busy tomorrow night?” Jisung asks.

“You know I'm not,” Minho answers.

“Do you want to… go out?” Jisung sounds nervous; uncertain, even. It's new and it renders Doongie curious.

“Go where?” Minho returns.

Jisung purses his lips. “Um, I have some coupons—to Tra…tta—to? Ttu?” he trips over the foreign word, which makes him even more bashful. “Um, Trattoria Bellini—” he manages eventually. “It's a newly opened restaurant and we'd have to drive around an hour to Jeonju, but… I won the coupons at work, and you're the first person I thought of inviting to go with me.”

“Oh, Italian food, huh?”

“Do you like pasta, hyung? My boss says the food there is really, really good,” Jisung presses. “And you're always feeding me so I want to return the favor for once. So—would you go? With me?”

Minho smiles—shy, almost. “Depends.” He clears his throat, and Doongie can tell that he's trying to be nonchalant, yet ultimately failing. “Would this count as a date?”

Jisung blinks. “Um. Yes?”

Minho chuckles; beams happily. “Good answer,” he says. “I'd love to go on a date with you.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

Minho isn't usually the type to care too much about what he's wearing. What he has always been is the type to consider comfort over style, and his fashion sensibilities in general have only devolved after working from home for years. He's gone on dates, of course, and he has the occasional night out with friends for which he would doll up, but he never really tries because never actually cares.

Apparently he cares now, though. It doesn't matter that Jisung sees him in tattered sweats all the time, he wants to make a good impression—or maybe that's it. He already knows how to be relaxed around Jisung, but he also wants Jisung to know that he can look great if he puts in real effort.

“You look fine, hyung.” Changbin, one of his closest friends growing up, is on video call with him, doing commentary as Minho goes through his closet. “You can never go wrong with a black button-up,” he assures Minho.

“Yes, you can.” Minho groans. “I don't want to look like I’m going to a job interview.”

“Sheesh,” Changbin huffs in exasperation. “Hyung, just wear anything. You know you'd look good anyway. That face of yours will hard carry any possible fashion faux pas.”

Minho, who had been rummaging through his closet, walks over to the laptop so he's in view of the camera and he fixes a sharp glare directly at his best friend. Normally, Changbin would be correct; part of the reason why Minho doesn't care to put in so much effort is because he knows he's a looker. The most he does is look appropriately presentable, and men—even unsuspecting women, occasionally—flock to him anyway. But it's different this time—he wants to be more than just appropriate. Not that he would be able to explain why that is. At least he doesn't want to. “Don't be useless, Changbin-ah. Even Doongie would probably give better advice at this rate. Right, Doongie?”

He glances at the fat cat lazing on the floor, by the foot of his bed. The cat doesn't really respond, not even with a curt meow. He only stares back.

“I’m useless?” Changbin huffs. “You're the one who called and asked for advice!” He shakes his head, but there’s an amused calmness on his features, showing that he’s too used to Minho acting like this. “You should've called Hyunjin or something. He's the one with all the fashion knowledge.”

Minho waves a hand dismissively. “I did. Your boyfriend didn't answer. Blessing in disguise. He dresses too flamboyantly for my taste anyway—and I have you on the line, so channel his fashion sensibilities, or something. Surely some of it has rubbed off on you by now.”

Changbin snorts. “You literally just said you think his style is too flamboyant for you, though?”

“Seo Changbin,” Minho says with a warning tone. “I said channel his fashion sensibility, not dress me like him!”

“Fine!” Changbin laughs. “You should wear that blue silk shirt you own—you look good in blue. Put on a nice blazer over it—or not, you decide. Oh! And wear those Chelsea boots you own—aren't those your date shoes, anyway?”

Minho hums. “Okay, now we're getting somewhere,” he mutters after a second of consideration. He goes back to his closet to pick out the precise articles of clothing that Changbin recommended.

“Hyung, you really like this guy, huh?” Changbin keeps talking even with Minho’s back to him. “When am I meeting him?”

“Never,” Minho deadpans; they both know he's playing, of course. He steps out of frame, and starts changing into the suggested outfit. “You'll meet him next time you visit. He literally lives next door. You’re free to knock on his house and introduce yourself any time.”

“Okay, I’ll be dropping by tomorrow,” Changbin teases. “Feel free to warn him!”

Minho scoffs. “Actually—please don’t. I could do without seeing you for a few more months.”

“Well, I didn’t say you’ll be seeing me. I’m going straight to this Han Jisung guy to give him the best friend appraisal.”

“Seo Changbin,” Minho uses his warning tone again.

Changbin laughs even more. “You know you miss me, hyung. But for real, maybe next week, me and Hyunjin’ll come visit and we can all double date.”

“Do whatever, it's your life,” Minho says. After a pause, he concedes, “Actually, that does sound nice.”

“Tch. Of course it’s nice. You miss us!” Changbin snickers. “This guy, though—hyung, it’s really been a while since you’ve been like this over someone—”

“Like what?”

“Like—whipped.” Changbin cackles. “In all the years I’ve known you I have never seen you care so much about impressions—and this includes that dance club sunbae from high school. The funny thing is that it isn’t even going to be his first impression of you!” He shakes his head. “Not to mention he asked you on this date, didn’t he? Pretty sure that means he’s already into you.” 

Minho groans and throws a t-shirt at the laptop, only to have it drop directly onto Doongie, still at the foot of the bed, instead.

Changbin laughs and Minho scoffs at him; however, his eyes soften when he turns his attention to the middle cat. “Sorry Doongie. Changbinnie’s being difficult.”

“Wow I went from useless to difficult,” Changbin comments. 

Meow, Doongie purrs.

“Hyung, you know what you should do?” Changbin starts, snickering.

Minho steps in front of the computer again, all dressed up now. “What?”

Changbin smirks and wiggles his eyebrows. “You should go for it, make a night of it.” He winks, and Minho rolls his eyes. “A little rough and tumble in bed might make you more agreeable.”

“Bye,” Minho says, refusing to acknowledge what Changbin is suggesting. Without waiting for any further comments from his friend, he abruptly ends the call and pushes down his laptop lid.

He huffs and looks at Doongie. “What do you think?”

Meow, Doongie answers.

Before Minho could decipher what this particular meowing means, the doorbell rings and he’s on alert—it’s obviously Jisung at the door because he isn’t really expecting anyone else.

He hurries out of his room, but then relaxes right in front of the threshold; he shakes out whatever remains of his nervousness and he attempts to look as calm and nonchalant as possible before opening the door.

“Hey—” he starts to greet, only to stop short because Jisung looks… stunning.  

His black hair is slicked back, forehead showing—and Minho never really would have thought foreheads could be especially sexy but somehow, Jisung makes it work like that. He’s wearing a red button down, but he doesn’t look like he’s on his way to any job interview—he looks like he’s on his way to a fancy date, frankly, and Minho is glad that fancy date is with him. 

The best part though is that Jisung is staring at him right back, just as captivated. Minho is relieved that he took care in dressing up himself because he feels scrutinized under Jisung’s gaze, but in the best way possible—he’s being adored and it’s a great feeling. Tingly.

He forces himself to stop staring at Jisung. 

“Take a picture,” he retorts.

“It’ll last longer, yeah, yeah,” Jisung chuckles, pulling himself out of his own reverie. “You look hot, hyung.”

And he feels literally hot, flushed—even more so after Jisung grins and offers his arm; Minho laughs because it’s like prom or something, all that’s missing is some kind of corsage, and it's silly because his school didn’t even hold a prom he could attend. He takes the offered arm anyway.

“Goodbye Soonie! Doongie! Dori!” He calls out; he doubts the cats care. If anything, they’re probably rejoicing because they get the house to themselves for once. “Lead the way,” he tells Jisung as he pulls the door shut behind him.

It’s insane; he has only known Jisung for a month, give or take, but the connection between them has always been so palpable; the buzz of electricity thrums every time they touch, always there every moment they’re together. They have spent so many hours with each other in the last several weeks, but now more than ever it feels like they’re on the verge of something—the edge of a new beginning, and Minho can’t stop smiling because of it.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Doongie is woken up by loud noises at the entrance of the house; by the sound of the key turning in the lock and then the heavy door creaking open. 

He's sprawled out across the couch, but he immediately perks up, getting on all four feet as he goes on alert. When he sees Minho, followed immediately by Jisung, he relaxes again.

The two humans are giggling, laughing, looking like they're having the time of their lives. Doongie has observed Minho like this before, when friends of his like the short, stocky one—Changbin—or the taller, pretty one—Hyunjin—come over, and they drink from numerous green bottles in the living room. He's never as touchy with either of them, however, not like he seems to be with Jisung right now.

He's also seen Minho with different men before; just as touchy, but never as giddy. They were never like Jisung, either, never men who are around so much, never men who Minho would spend time with even during daylight, making him glow just by being in their presence.

“I had a great time tonight,” Jisung tells Minho, his voice soft—almost purr-like, in fact. They're in the middle of the living room now, just standing toe to toe, arms around each other, their faces barely an inch apart.

“Me too,” Minho agrees in a soft whisper.

And then they're staring at each other, tension so thick that a knife could cut through it.

“Can I kiss you?” Jisung asks.

Minho chuckles. “Why are you even asking?”

And then they're on each other, mouths crashing as they laugh some more, and their hands move and wander all over each other's bodies, like both of them are plain eager to touch whatever they can of each other.

It's kind of annoying because clearly they don't care that they have an audience, but… maybe a part of Doongie also finds the clear affection that they have for each other touching—not that he cares, or whatever.

Besides, it still feels like something he shouldn't be witnessing, so Doongie unceremoniously hops off the couch, deliberate in the way he runs right through them, directly between their legs. It makes them forcibly separate, which in turn makes them laugh.

“Doongie!” Minho exclaims, while Jisung laughs even harder; he practically falls against Minho, who catches him with waiting arms.

Meow, Doongie purrs, pausing very briefly and looking at them before he runs off to disappear elsewhere in the house, and the two of them crack up even more.

And then they fall into whispers and more hushed giggling, and even from afar, Doongie can tell they seem happy.

Meow, he purrs happily.

Meow. Soonie is suddenly in front of him, walking out from Minho's bedroom—the last place either of them should be in because Doongie is pretty sure that's where Minho and Jisung are headed to next.

Doongie mews at Soonie and chases the latter  off to the kitchen instead; it's best they don't disturb their human and his new paramour—and it's definitely best if they don't scar themselves by accidentally witnessing something that's meant to be private.

III.

The (not so) new neighbor—Han Jisung—is around too much.

It started with short, spontaneous visits, just him dropping by for a meal every so often. But occasional meals had quickly morphed into movie nights, and movie afternoons, and soon they had turned into movie weekends. And then he was over not just every single weekend, but sometimes even the days in between, always monopolizing Minho’s attention.

These days he has even taken Soonie’s spot on Minho’s bed. Minho has shared his bed with men before, but they were never repeat offenders; Jisung practically lives in the house, and Soonie is sick of it.

One time, Soonie had very purposefully beat Jisung to the bed. He'd sprawled on the left side—his side!—and waited for his human and his human's new living appendage to come into the room.

And then they did, and Minho had immediately picked him up—at first Soonie felt smug, comforted as usual in his human's arms, except Minho had proceeded to place him down on the floor, giving him a fond pat on the head before shooing him away and out of the room. And then that Han Jisung promptly crawled into Soonie's side of the bed like the menace that he is.

Sometimes, he misses when it was just the two of them—and Minho's parents, but they hardly counted because when Minho first took Soonie under his wing, he had very decidedly taken on the responsibility of caring for Soonie; of nursing Soonie back into full health. It was then that Soonie had silently pledged his loyalty to Minho, and they had been through so much together in the years that have passed since. Even with the addition of Doongie and Dori into their household, Soonie remained Minho's number one, his right hand cat, unmatched in his importance in his human's life.

And then Han Jisung moved in next door. It doesn't matter how many treats or toys he uses to try and bribe them; doesn't matter that he always attempts to play with them and treats them all with equal respect, if not fondness. It doesn't even matter that he's the only one who correctly managed to differentiate Soonie and Doongie within days of knowing them—he entered their lives like a damn wrecking ball, and now Soonie is fuzzy on his role in Minho's life.

This morning he ponders on finally doing something about it. The bedroom door has been left slightly ajar, so he enters, soft and quiet—and then he jumps onto the bed, and climbs on Jisung's chest.

He stares intently at the man, veritably tempted to scratch his face—maybe Minho won't like playing with it and kissing it as much if Soonie leaves a scar. Then again, maybe Minho wouldn't like him as much if he leaves such an obvious mark.

No, he has to be subtle in his machinations.

While he considers this, Jisung suddenly stirs. Petulant, Soonie places more of his weight on him and stares harder—when Jisung's eyes open, they directly meet Soonie's sharp gaze, and he ends up letting out a very high pitched yelp in surprise. It’s pretty satisfying if Soonie can say so himself.

He snarls at Jisung, who seems to be frozen underneath his heavy weight and looking uncertain what to do;  beside him, Minho finally begins to wake, and Soonie takes that as his cue to turn his nose up before hopping off Jisung’s chest and the bed in general.

“What's going on? What time is it?” Minho mumbles sleepily, turning to face Jisung.

“Soonie—” Jisung winces, rubbing his face with both hands as he sits up, clearly confused as to what just happened. “He woke me up.”

“Soonie?” Minho rubs his eyes open.

“Yeah,” Jisung says. “I started having a hard time breathing in my sleep and when I woke up, he was sitting on me.”

“Really?” Minho looks part confused, part amused and part in disbelief. He pushes himself up, and props himself up with his elbows. “Soonie-yah!” he calls out, eyes still half-lidded as he glances around the room in search of the oldest cat.

Meow, Soonie purrs affectionately, hopping onto the bed again and stepping right over Jisung so he can crawl into Minho’s arms, acting like the purrfect picture of a feline angel.

”What the—” Jisung gawks, his eyes following Soonie. “I swear, he was glaring at me just two minutes ago, looking like he wanted to end me,” he insists, his voice trembling a little.

“Soonie? That true?” Minho laughs and exchanges looks with the cat. 

“I truly think your cat wants to kill me,” Jisung solemnly insists.

“Oh, stop. He's a harmless old cat.” Minho chuckles, and Soonie takes the moment to nuzzle his human on the shoulder. “See? He's sweet.”

Jisung wrinkles his nose. “To you, he's sweet. I'm pretty sure he hates me.”

“Why would he hate you?” Minho snorts.

Jisung gives him a pointed look, while Soonie keeps purring gently.

Minho only laughs some more. “Here,” he says as he tries to hand Soonie over to Jisung, who automatically hesitates. In the end, he cautiously welcomes the cat in his arms, but before he can even adjust his hold properly, it's Soonie who hisses and instantly wriggles out of the already loose hold. As soon as he can, he jumps off the bed, obviously eager to get as far away from Jisung as he can.

Frankly, more than the fact that he’s taken Soonie’s precious spot next to Minho, he doesn’t really like the way Jisung smells. Sure, there’s always a hint of mint there—which is why Dori is so in love with him, and why even Doongie enjoys his presence, but he also always smells faintly of other animals. Soonie doesn't like it—to him, it means Jisung is a cheater, and his human deserves better than a cheater.

Minho bursts into even louder laughter. “Okay, maybe you’re right,” he admits. “Don't worry too much about it, though! I’m sure you’ll grow on him—you grew on me after all.”

Jisung snorts. “Be honest, hyung! I'm pretty sure I didn't have to grow on you,” he says, smirking. “You liked me the moment you saw me, admit it!”

Meow, Soonie makes noises; he hates when Jisung gets cocky like that—especially since Minho is weirdly fond of him for it every time.

“Tch.” Minho scoffs; denial that even Soonie can detect.

Meow, he repeats anyway. Resist the charm, is what he wants to communicate to his human.

“You know you did!” Jisung grins, cheekily inching closer and closer—and just like that Minho succumbs.

“Whatever,” Minho mutters. “You have morning breath,” he adds childishly, yet he doesn’t pull away when Jisung’s lips press against his.

Meow, Soonie huffs, annoyed as he flounces off, exiting with obvious indignation through the bedroom door.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Minho is sick. Apparently he’s been feeling under the weather since the night before, and sure enough, he had woken up that morning with a high fever. He messaged Jisung that morning telling him that it’s best for him not to go over later in the day as they originally planned because he didn’t want his boyfriend to see him as he sweats it out; also that he didn’t want to risk passing on whatever virus he had.

It was disappointing because both of them had been quite busy with work, and then hadn't really seen each other all week save for dinner, once, a few nights ago.

But Jisung has always been stubborn. As a little boy, the more someone told him he can’t do something, the more he would do it. Many scrapes and even broken bones were had because of this particular quality of his. As an adult, he’s far more discerning and generally a lot more compliant, but his boyfriend instructing him to stay away because he’s ill is definitely an order he will disobey any time.

Minho had given him a spare key a while back, even before things had become official between the two of them. It was a neighbor thing, just in case, Minho had said. Jisung hadn't really thought hard about what a just in case moment would look like, but right now is an occasion he thinks easily fits the criteria.

He quietly opens the door after unlocking it; the house is eerily quiet, not even the trio of house cats making their usual noises.

“Hello?” He calls out in a hushed voice; he assumes Minho is in his room resting and he doesn’t want to unnecessarily disturb him. He gets no answer, save for a soft Meow. Dori finally appears, strutting towards him, probably looking for the usual pat on the head without looking too eager for it. “Hi little one,” he coos with a smile, crouching down to pat the cat on the head.

He closes the door behind him, and for now he heads to the kitchen; before he gets there, he comes across Soonie, just standing by the doorway as if on guard.

“Oh.” Jisung cringes. Soonie is Minho’s only cat whose favor he has never gained. “Hi,” he greets cautiously. At work he’s sometimes taken to talking to animals as if they’re equals, and Minho does the same with his cats so Jisung has never hesitated in doing the same in front of him. But Minho doesn’t even know he’s over right now, and frankly, Soonie kind of scares him. “I’m here to cook for hyung,” he explains anyway, holding up a tote bag filled with ingredients for dakjook. “I’m not very good in the kitchen, but our Minho-hyung has to eat something, doesn’t he?”

Soonie keeps staring at him, intense and unbreaking, which makes him deflate. He takes a deep breath, and wonders whether he should just step over the cat—what’s the worst Soonie can do to him? Luckily, before he can test this and find out, Soonie turns and haughtily leads the way into the kitchen.

He lets out a sigh of relief and follows the cat. In the kitchen, he starts talking out all of the ingredients he’d bought earlier that day, from the market that’s a good half hour from where they live. Afterwards, he carefully looks for the correct pot and other kitchen utensils he needs; fortunately, he has watched Minho cook for him often enough that he knows his way around his boyfriend’s kitchen.

There’s a faint rustling noise behind him, and when he looks over his shoulder, he finds that Soonie has hopped up and settled on the kitchen island as if to get a better look at what Jisung is doing.

“Oh. Are you going to help me, Soonie-nim?” He asks, grinning crookedly. “Let’s call a truce for now, shall we?”

Talking to the cat somehow comes easy as he moves around the kitchen. He commentates and announces each step he makes; as he pours the rice into the pot and rinses it repeatedly; as he leaves it to soak and he starts to prep the rest of the ingredients—the chicken thighs, the ginger, the scallions. His knife work is shoddy, especially compared to Minho’s but—

“It’ll all taste the same once it’s in the stomach, right?” He asks Soonie while laughing at how vastly different the sizes of his chopped ingredients are.

Meow, the cat responds, and it makes Jisung smile. “Aaah, how did that human of yours even get sick?” He sighs and shakes his head, the repeated chopping noises somehow calming. “He’s been working overtime a lot this last week, hasn’t he? Has barely had time for us!” He looks up and chuckles, amazed that Soonie is just sitting still, observing him.

“This is my grandma’s recipe,” he explains. “This is what my mother fed me whenever me or my brother got sick when we were growing up. I’m sure mine won’t taste as good but—” he smiles and crosses his fingers, “—here’s to hoping! I actually called her today after Minho told me not to come over. I asked for the recipe… and I had to explain that my boyfriend is sick, so that was a thing.” He chuckles softly, face warm as he recalls the conversation with his mother. “She didn’t really know that I’ve been seeing someone, so I got a tiny scolding. I just haven’t had time to tell her! And it’s so new with hyung… I just wanted to enjoy the honeymoon period for a while. I had to promise my mother that I’ll tell her more about him and introduce him to her soon.”

“Soonie-nim,” he continues as he puts the rice, chicken and ginger together in the pot, “I’m going to tell you a secret.” He turns the stove on at low heat, and then he grabs a wooden spoon for stirring. “I really, really like Minho-hyung,” he whispers. It’s probably not a secret; he supposes that much is obvious by now to the cats. He lowers his voice, almost to an inaudible tone when he utters the next words, “I think I might be in love with him.” He glances at Soonie, and flashes a shy smile. “But who wouldn’t be right? Hyung is very attractive—the first time I saw him I thought he was unfairly gorgeous! But the more I got to know him—” he giggles softly. “I just really like him, Soonie. He’s really funny, and considerate—he tries not to appear like he is, but he always takes note of the things I tell him about myself. He makes me feel seen and heard—but he never places any expectations on me, and that’s why he makes me want to be really good for him. Is that silly?” He chuckles. “I want to make him happy—and I want to do it by being happy with him. So—Soonie-ah,” he drops formalities, consciously trying to be more casual with the cat, “I hope we can get along because I think that will make hyung very happy.” He nods, more as an affirmation to himself; he keeps slowly stirring the porridge in the pot, even with his arm starting to cramp. “Soonie—did you hear me?”

He looks over his shoulder when there’s no response, and only then does Soonie give a soft Meow, in response.

It’s probably silly, conversing so earnestly with a cat, but he means everything he has said. And if his sincerity somehow reaches Soonie and it somehow makes a difference, then all the better.

“We’re agreed on this, then?” He grins. “But don’t worry—I’ll keep trying to win you over. Let’s just get hyung better first, shall we?”

ᓚᘏᗢ

Minho finally seems to have recovered from whatever was ailing him during the last couple of days. He has color back in his face, at least, is what Soonie has noted.

Jisung had come over mornings and evenings to nurse him to health, and Soonie had observed as he fed Minho gingery chicken porridge. If you ask Soonie, it didn’t really smell very good, but Minho seemed to like it, and it did seem to help make him feel better. Soonie begrudgingly gives Jisung credit for as much.

“Soonie, I’m feeling good now,” he greets the cat that morning, gathering him in his arms and carrying him out of the room. “Is Jisungie still here?”

The last two nights, Soonie had gotten his spot on Minho’s bed back. The human had kicked Jisung out, insisting that he didn’t want Jisung to catch whatever it was that he had. Minho had actually told him to go home, but Jisung slept on the couch both nights anyway.

Soonie has to admit that the dedication is admirable.

Meow, he answers Minho.

His human pads over to the living room, and the smile that spreads on his face upon seeing Jisung peacefully asleep—albeit with limbs comically akimbo—in the living room, is so warm and joyful. Soonie is kind of annoyed that it’s Jisung causing such happiness in his human, but at the same time—

I hope we can get along because I think that will make hyung very happy. Those were Jisung’s words, and maybe Soonie has to acquiesce to the merit they have.

“Come on,” Minho whispers to Soonie. They leave Jisung to sleep, and Minho takes him to the kitchen. He places Soonie on the counter, and he starts taking out a few plastic containers of side dishes from the fridge. He also starts cracking eggs into a bowl—for egg rolls, Soonie guesses.

Minho is humming, whistling so happily, as if he wasn’t out of commission for the last 48 hours or so. Again, Soonie supposes he can attribute some of that happy, healthy glow he’s now sporting to Jisung.

Has he been entirely selfish in previously refusing to consider the role that Jisung has been playing in human’s life? Should he now try to be more generous? 

Meow, Doongie purrs from elsewhere in the kitchen—the top of the fridge, of course, as usual. Acting like he can read Soonie’s thoughts, gremlin that he is.

Soonie simply snarls at him.

But—alright. Maybe he should do something for Jisung. A peace offering, maybe. Giving up vividly satisfying fantasies of scratching his face is probably not enough.

Meow, he sounds out, head butting Minho’s leg for his attention.

“Yes, Soonie?” Minho looks down at him.

Meow, he repeats. And then, with a swish of his tail, he hops off the counter, exiting through the window that’s open above it.

He explores the mini yard behind the house, observing his surroundings until he notices the exact movement that he was looking out for. 

He stills, making sure to be as quiet as he possibly can before he pounces behind the bushes and wrestles with the tiny creature that had been hiding in there. It takes a little bit of effort—he’s an aging cat, not to mention years of relying on Minho’s goodwill and enjoying tubes upon tubes of Churu has turned him into an overweight, domesticated animal who isn’t really used to hunting. In the end, he succeeds, and feeling triumphant he heads back to the house.

Jisung is still in the living room, but he’s awake now. He's sitting on the couch, hair sticking out all over the place, and he’s staring blankly at the TV that isn’t even turned on.

Soonie struts over towards him, and when he’s right in front of Jisung, he drops the half-dead mouse by his feet. Jisung looks down, and there’s a split second delay before he realizes that Soonie has brought him a gift.

He screeches, and then Minho is hurrying out of the kitchen in panic—until he sees why Jisung had yelled, and he starts laughing uncontrollably.

Soonie preens with pride; he trusts that Minho knows what the offering means.

“See?” Minho says in between fits of laughter. “I told you you’ll grow on him! He likes you now!” Still sniggering, he walks over and picks Soonie off the floor.

Jisung winces. “Dude, gross. Your cat has mouse breath.”

Minho snorts and holds Soonie out for Jisung. “Take him so I can clean your present up,” he says.

Jisung groans, but he sighs in defeat and he takes Soonie, this time far more relaxed—it helps that Soonie doesn’t struggle either.

“Let’s bathe the cats later,” Minho suggests after he gets back with a dustpan which he uses to gather the freshly dead mouse. “After we have breakfast—which is ready by the way.”

Jisung huffs. “Whatever.” He looks at Soonie, who has comfortably curled up in his lap. After a pause, “You really think he likes me now?”

Minho snorts. He leans over and lands a sweet kiss on Jisung's cheek. “You work with animals. You know exactly what Soonie was trying to do.”

Jisung sighs, shoulders relaxing in acceptance. He tentatively runs his hand along Soonie’s cat, and then he leans down, muttering playfully, “Mouse breath.”

Meow, Soonie purrs, not exactly with contentment, but more as an amicable truce offering.

Meow, he repeats; once more for good measure—which makes Jisung laugh fondly. And okay, Soonie concedes, maybe that one was a purr of satisfaction and contentment.

+

Woof.

Three intimidating pairs of eyes stare at him, and Bbama can't help but shrink into himself. He had been so excited when Jisung took him home, pleased to have been chosen, and excited to have someone to play with all day.

Meowrrrr, all three of the cats echo one after another—almost like they're a choir harmonizing.

Now, though, the excitement is slowly morphing into uncertainty and he whimpers, quick to rush and hide behind Jisung's legs. 

“Aww, Bbama!” Jisung laughs and crouches down, urging him to come out of hiding. “These are Soonie, Doongie and Dori—they're going to be your older cat brothers!”

And then one of the cats—the gray one—hisses at him, and Bbama yips in fright; immediately attempts to scurry into Jisung's arms.

The other human—Minoring, is how Jisung had introduced him to Bbama—bursts into laughter. “Jisungie, I think you upset Dori by being a cheater and bringing a dog home.”

Jisung groans; gives up for now and cradles the puppy in his arms. “Cats and dogs can get along, okay. I know from experience!” He huffs. “You just have to integrate them properly into each other's lives.”

“Oh Jisungie.” Minho sniggers and leans in to gently kiss the top of his head. “I love you, but—good luck with that.”

੯•́ ໒꒱