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“Isagi, how do you feel about being a dad?”
Isagi fumbled with the phone in his hands, tripped on a raised crack on the sidewalk, and had to pick his unhinged jaw up and off the ground.
“What?” he whispered into his phone. He was already getting strange looks from other people in the park, so he couldn’t afford yelling and possibly fainting.
Bachira just made a faint noise in response. Isagi heard some rustling and Bachira cooing and something, but he needed answers.
“Bachira!” he whined. “What do you mean?”
They had only been dating for a couple of months, not to mention neither one of them could have a child, but that did nothing to calm Isagi’s pounding heart.
Instead of answering him, Bachira said, “meet me by the little bridge in the park.” He hung up and Isagi was left alone with his rapidly spiraling thoughts. He mentally prepared himself for any situation his mind could conjure as he picked up his pace.
Isagi ran down the sidewalk, dodging dogs and people on their bikes. He was only slightly out of breath by the time he found the old bridge Bachira was talking about. It didn’t take him long to spot Bachira and his familiar easy grin.
“Isagi! Come here,” he urged. Isagi’s heart was pounding harshly in his ears when he ran over to Bachira.
“Over here,” Bachira said. He grabbed Isagi’s hand and tugged him under the bridge and into overgrown grass.
“Bachira,” Isagi panted, “is something wrong? What did you mean—” Isagi paused his train of thought when Bachira got down on his hands and knees to look over a bundle of fabric. He brought his finger to his lips and pointed to the folded up clothing in the dirt.
Isagi squatted and moved closer, tilting his head. A tiny face peered at him with big, grey-ish eyes. It squeaked and stretched an even tinier paw out.
“Isn’t it adorable?” Bachira whispered. He gently stroked the top of the kitten’s head with his pointer finger. Isagi had to admit the kitten was very cute, but Bachira had yet to answer any of his questions.
Bachira picked himself up and scooped the now squirming kitten up in its little makeshift nest. “Here,” he said, holding the bundle out towards Isagi, “I need you to hold him while I get his sibling.”
Bachira then rolled onto his stomach and wiggled underneath the old house the kittens were left in. Isagi looked at Bachira, then the kitten, then the abandoned house that looked two seconds away from falling apart. Bachira disappeared even further under the raised platform of the house and Isagi looked down at the grey and white kitten.
It stared at Isagi, even when Bachira bumped his arm against a wooden beam and yelped loudly. Isagi was half tempted to reach down and drag Bachira out by his ankle.
After a few more moments of Bachira fumbling, he crawled back out with a wriggling white and orange kitten.
Dirt scuffed the knees of his torn jeans and a few slight scratches covered his knuckles and hands. He held the other kitten out proudly, smiling like he’d won a trophy.
“Children!” Bachira said, kissing the top of the kitten’s fuzzy—and dirt covered—head.
“Wait—Bachira, we can’t keep them!” Isagi tried to hand the other kitten off, only to have Bachira dodge him. He cuddled the orange cat closer.
“We can’t just leave them,” Bachira said with a frown. “They’re too young to take care of themselves.”
He then turned his big eyes to Isagi and gave him the look. Isagi chewed on his lip and tried not to let Bachira’s puppy—or maybe kitten—eyes get to him. But that damn look always got him in the end. He sighed and adjusted his hold on the grey cat.
“We can’t keep them at my place,” he said. Bachira cheered loudly, then turned to apologize to the kittens.
“My mom’s not home,” Bachira said, “so we can get them settled in smoothly.” He turned to lead the way to his house.
Once inside, the kittens were set down in an empty box Bachira had in his room.
“I don’t know anything about caring for baby cats,” Isagi said. He watched the orange kitten swat at his sibling. “Yours is bullying mine,” Isagi said with a pout.
Bachira entered the room with a bottle of gentle soap and a shallow bowl of water. “Don’t be silly,” Bachira said, “they’re both our children.” He scooped the orange one up and turned him around, checking his tiny body.
“Mei Mei seems healthy,” Bachira observed, “but Hana is pretty scrawny.”
Isagi raised an eye brow at the names Bachira had already given them. Isagi picked Hana up and followed Bachira into the bathroom. He poured a ring of soap around Mei Mei’s neck and dipped him under the gentle flow of the faucet when it reached a safe temperature. Isagi watched as Bachira handled the kittens like they were made of glass, until each one looked like cute drowned rats.
Hana and Mei Mei were wrapped in separate towels and gently patted dry. Bachira was staring at the kittens with wide eyes.
“They’re so cute,” he said. Isagi nodded and pet Hana’s nose.
“I wanna squeeze then until their little eyes pop out,” Bachira said with a sigh.
“What?”
“You know,” Bachira waved his hands around, careful not to jostle the now sleeping Mei Mei. “They’re so adorable I wanna eat them.”
Isagi didn’t know, but he went along with his boyfriend’s excitement anyway.
・・・
When the kittens had been staying in Bachira’s room for a week, Bachira decided to introduce soft kibble. When he was leaning over their play pen, Isagi swooped in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. Bachira laughed sweetly and soaked in the attention like a sponge.
Isagi leaned in closer and deepened their second kiss. Bachira melted into him easily and opened up for Isagi, lovely as he always was. When Isagi pulled back, they were both flushed.
He turned his head to kiss Bachira’s neck, but paused when he felt eyes watching him. Mei Mei sat completely still, watching them both like a little hawk.
Bachira hummed questioningly and turned his head to see what suddenly caught Isagi’s attention. Mei Mei meowed loudly and blinked slowly.
“Oh, they must be hungry,” Bachira said. He kissed Isagi again before pulling himself up to retrieve the kitten food.
Isagi shot Mei Mei a dirty look. He was cockblocked by a cat.
・・・
For someone who was seemingly always scatterbrained, Bachira had a schedule for the kittens down and mastered in two days. Isagi just did his best to try and keep up.
The kittens ate a mixture of a milk substitute and foul smelling canned food. Isagi thought it smelled like death itself, but Bachira would rub his face against the kittens, even after they downed an entire bowl.
Hana was smaller than his brother, but they were both becoming good eaters. Bachira made a small pen to keep them in. Isagi often sat back on Bachira’s bed and watched in silent amusement as he crawled on all fours, pawing at his floor to show the kittens what they were supposed to do in their litter box.
Mei Mei usually fell asleep in the box, while Hana liked to chew on the paper pellets.
After school, Isagi could usually count on finding Bachira playing with them or carrying Mei Mei in a makeshift sling.
“He gets nervous,” Bachira explained, “so I made a carrier for him.”
Bachira was made to be a parent, Isagi thought. He clapped softly when they ate their food on their own, and called Isagi in the middle of the night, excitedly saying, “they rubbed against my hand! Isagi, they’re so cute. You have to see them tomorrow!”
Isagi had been half asleep when Bachira called, but he didn’t mind having his sleep interrupted. The kittens had, admittedly, grown on him. And Bachira was in a constant state of contentment. That by itself makes the gross food, the fact that he became a cat dad unexpectedly, and the frequent 2 am calls worth it.