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Having breakfast with Team is one of Win’s favourite little pleasures. For as long as he’s known him, it’s been an easy way for Win to monopolise Team’s time, flirting with him over steaming bowls or plates while he’s distracted by food.
It’s not something he gets to do as often these days. Training for the national team usually has Team up at 5 AM, heading for the pool, or the gym. So when Win’s alarm goes off two hours later, Team’s gone, his side of the bed is cold, and Win has breakfast alone.
Today, however, their days off have aligned perfectly; while Team sleeps in for once, Win slips out for his morning run, wallet in his pocket, taking a slightly different route so he’ll go past Team’s favourite jok stall. He’s got big plans for the day that start with breakfast and continue in bed.
About halfway through, while he’s stopped and waiting for a light to change, a cat jumps onto the wall next to him, meowing loud enough for Win to hear through his headphones.
He pulls one out, giving the cat a smile. “Hello,” he greets, offering a hand for her to lean forward and sniff. When she bumps her head against it, purring, Win coos. “You’re so sweet,” he says. She’s a little rough around the edges, her black and white fur matted in a few places, and she’s on the thin side. One of the local strays, he assumes.
He spends a few minutes petting her, wishing he had something on him to feed her. She accepts the affection happily, meowing quietly when Win scratches just behind her ears.
The light finally changes, cars slowing to a stop. Win reluctantly takes his hand away. “I have to go,” he tells her, “be careful.” And then he goes with a little wave, a pang of guilt in his chest. He starts his pace back up, trying to drown it out.
He’s always enjoyed jogging. The burn in his muscles is pleasant and familiar, and although it’s been a while since he’s done this route, a few people still give him a friendly wave as he goes past.
When a song comes on that Team recommended him, Win can’t help the smile that twitches at his mouth. It’s upbeat and catchy, not his typical style, but it’s great to run to, and Win finds himself humming it sometimes at work. Team’s always been good at giving him recommendations.
Win loses himself easily to the feeling of feet hitting the pavement and the sight of Bangkok’s streets, something he’d missed terribly while in London. Soon enough, he’s turning onto the road that houses Team’s Jok stand.
The auntie at the stall gives Win a bright grin as he wanders up. “Nong Win! I haven’t seen you in a while. Where’s Nong Team?”
“Sleeping, Auntie,” he says, smiling. “We’ve got the day off.”
She makes a noise of understanding as she stirs the porridge. The smell of fried eggs reaches Win’s nose and makes his stomach rumble. “After thirty years of marriage, my husband still makes me breakfast every day,” she gives Win a conspiratorial look, “even though he couldn’t cook for the first five.”
Win laughs.
“I’d still eat it, mind you,” she says as she begins ladling porridge into a bag. “That man could burn water, never mind an omelette. But he woke up before me every day, and kept trying until he could make something edible.”
“Is this your way of telling me to learn to cook?”
The auntie snorts. “If you did that, I would go out of business. Nong Team is my best customer.”
The smile that Win can feel stretching his face is fond. “This is his favourite stall.”
“Oh, you two, both such sweet talkers,” the auntie demurs. She fills a bag with pieces of pork, adding a few extra.
It’s then that another meow reaches Win’s ears.
Surprised, he looks to his feet, finding the cat from earlier winding her way around his legs, wide yellow eyes staring up at him. She meows again, rubbing her head into his calf. Had she followed him the whole way?
Win looks between her and the auntie, who’s watching the interaction with amusement.
“Actually, Auntie, could I have another serving of pork?” He asks, bending to pat the cat’s head again.
“Of course, of course,” she says, filling another bag with a smile. When she passes the food to Win, taking the payment, she tells him, “She seems to like you.”
Grinning, Win says, “I like her too. See you next time, Auntie!”
Near the stall is a little wooden bench Win sits at, happy when the cat jumps up to sit next to him. Setting his and Team’s food on his other side, he opens the little bag with a cat-sized portion of pork in it. He pulls a piece out, offering it to the cat who places a paw on his hand, sniffs the meat, and then eagerly takes it from him, barely chewing.
“You’re really hungry, huh?” He murmurs, opening the bag wider and placing it in front of her. She eats with vigour, making little growling meows as she does so.
He sits with her while she eats, smiling when she finishes and rubs up against him.
“You’re very cute,” he tells her, avoiding the matted patches of her fur as he strokes down her back. She basks in the attention, her eyes falling shut. “You’re all alone out here, huh?”
She doesn’t reply, of course, but she pushes her head against his leg, and then meows.
The guilt comes back full force, because Win knows he needs to go back home. The thought of leaving her out here sits uncomfortably in his sternum, but he can’t just bring a cat back to their house.
Sighing, he gives her a last scratch behind her ears, and stands. “I’ve gotta go,” he says, as she stares up at him. “Be safe out here, okay?”
He turns and sets off, but it doesn’t even take five paces for Win to see that she’s hopped down from the bench to follow him, her legs moving quickly to keep pace.
He sighs, but figuring she’ll probably get distracted by something else along the way, Win allows it, walking slightly slower so her little legs don’t have to work quite so hard.
The walk from the stall back to their house is short, only a few blocks away, and the cat follows him every step of the way.
At the door to the house, Win half-heartedly tries to shoo her off. “Go on,” he says. “If he sees you, I’ll never hear the end of it. You’ll take my place in bed and I’ll be relegated to sleeping on the floor. Go.”
The cat doesn’t leave, but she sits on the path and just stares.
Win takes the opportunity and quickly darts through the door, checking to see that she’s still there and he hasn’t caught any paws in the jamb. The guilt is still heavy in his stomach, but he can’t bring a cat home without talking to Team first.
Dropping the food bags onto the table, Win heads up the stairs, finding Team almost exactly where he’d left him, curled up on his side. But his arm has stretched across the mattress, searching for Win. The pout forming on Team’s lips makes his heart skip a beat. He’s just so adorable.
Sitting on his side of the bed, Win runs his knuckles over Team’s cheek, sleep-warm and dusted red. Team recognises his touch, his brows smoothing over and his hand finding its way to Win’s leg.
The touch makes Win grin, and he leans over to place a kiss on Team’s forehead. Then, into his hair, Win murmurs, “I know you’re awake, baby.”
Team doesn’t say anything, but he makes a noise of protest.
“I bought you jok from Auntie Fah’s stall,” Win bribes. “Come have breakfast with me.”
As he moves away, Team cracks open an eye. “Really?” He asks.
“I wouldn’t lie about Auntie Fah’s food,” he says solemnly, brushing Team’s fringe out of his eyes. Then he pinches his cheek, laughing at the offended noise he makes. “Come on, baby.”
Team glowers at him, but he does slowly drag himself out of bed, mumbling about mean boyfriends that wake up too early.
Ignoring the completely inaccurate insult – because what kind of mean boyfriend would go and buy him breakfast? – Win stands up. “I’ll go and plate it, don’t go back to sleep,” he calls as Team heads for the bathroom, waving Win off.
Downstairs, Win starts to put it all into bowls, giving Team’s slightly more of the pork. As he’s deciding whether or not to give the jok a minute in the microwave, he hears the sounds of Team coming down the stairs and into the living room.
Then Team says, “Hia? Whose cat is this?”
Win pauses.
Peeking his head out of the kitchen, he sees Team standing by the low Japanese table, pointing at the stray that’s been following Win all morning. She’s sitting on the dark wood, her tail slowly flicking back and forth as she blinks at Win.
His brow furrows, looking from the cat to the door, and back.
“Did you adopt a cat without me?” Team’s scowling at him, even as he ducks down and his hand starts petting over the cat’s body. “You said no cats yet!”
“I didn’t adopt her,” Win says, leaving the kitchen to frown down at the cat. “She’s a stray, I think, she followed me on my run.” Then he lowers down to her eye level and asks, “How did you get in here?”
The cat stares impassively up at Win before turning and licking at Team’s hand, nuzzling into the attention.
Team’s eyes light up, and Win knows exactly what’s about to happen.
Team’s face takes on a casual façade that Win doesn’t believe for a second. “So, she doesn’t have anywhere to go?”
Win gives him a flat look.
“She’ll be all alone out there?” Team’s not meeting his eyes, laser-focused on the cat.
“Team,” Win warns. “She might be missing.”
Team pouts, considering. “We’ll take her to the vets and see if she’s microchipped.”
Win can see his plans for the day immediately evaporate into thin air. He’s always been weak against that pout. Sighing, Win says, “Fine, we’ll go to the vets after breakfast.”
The bright-eyed grin Team gives him as he scratches the cat’s chin is enough to immediately cure any disappointment he might have felt, so Win stands and heads back to the kitchen, wishing he hadn’t left his phone with the food so he could take a picture.
As he goes, he hears Team murmuring to the cat, and although this isn’t close to what Win expected for their shared day off, hearing Team and the cat meowing back and forth makes his heart warm.
When Win sets the bowls on the table, Team has the cat on his lap and is carefully petting her.
“She could have fleas, Team,” Win points out, sitting across from him.
“You have fleas,” Team shoots back, glaring.
Win raises an eyebrow, pausing his stirring of his jok. “You didn’t seem to be concerned about fleas last night when I was rim–”
“Hia!” Team covers the cat’s ears, which she doesn’t seem to appreciate, turning her head to try and shake him off.
“She’s a cat, Team.”
“You don’t know what she knows,” Team glares.
Win shakes his head fondly, going back to his food.
It’s not quite the breakfast he’d been expecting to have, but Win can admit there’s a domesticity to it that he loves. Team still tells Win all about the brutal new training regime his coach is putting him through – “He’s as bad as you were, Hia, my muscles hurt.” – and blushes at Win’s flirting – “I can still give you a work out in other ways.” – but he does so between spoonfuls and petting the cat, who curls into a ball and falls asleep.
It sets alarm bells ringing in Win’s head. Team’s felt like home to him for longer than he probably realises, and he’s privately thought of them as a family for years. With the addition of the cat, though, that feeling starts to set into his bones. It’s a dangerous way to feel when they have no idea if she has a home waiting for her elsewhere.
Team doesn’t seem concerned about this in the slightest, smiling down at her as he pets carefully over the top of her head. The sight is sweet enough that it quiets some of the concerns starting to rear their heads, and Win indulges the impulse to take a photo of the two of them.
*
They spend the rest of the day going to the vet – who confirms that she isn’t microchipped, and has no major health concerns aside from being slightly underweight – and then to the pet store to get her supplies.
They carefully cut and brush her fur, which she doesn’t like very much, but she at least sits somewhat calmly for it. Then Team takes a picture of her, posting it to social media with a brief description of where she was found. He pouts the whole time he does it, but they both know it has to be done.
Then Team takes some photos just to have, turning and rotating his phone for a variety of angles. She allows it, yawning, until Team tries to take a photo right under her nose, at which point she moves away from him to loaf in front of Win.
She seems too well-behaved to be a stray, and the thought that there’s someone out there looking for her sits like a stone in Win’s stomach. To distract himself, he scratches under her chin.
When Team points out, “She needs a name,” Win hums.
“Well, you’re terrible at naming things,” he says.
Team makes an offended noise, eyebrows crinkling. “I am not!”
“You called your cactus Nong.”
“Nong is a great name for a cactus.”
“Sure, baby,” Win says, fond. He pats Team’s head, and then pats the cat’s.
She lifts her head, leaning into the attention, purring.
“What about Tux?” Team offers. When Win just flicks his eyes down to her black and white markings and back up to Team, he scowls. “Shut up,” he says, “Tux is a good name.”
“What about Sasi?” Win offers, scratching her chin.
“Sasi,” Team repeats, tilting his head to one side, considering the cat. “Do you like Sasi?” He asks her.
Her only reply is to keep purring, her head pushing into Win’s palm. She licks at his thumb, her rough tongue juxtaposing her smooth fur.
“I think she likes it,” Win says, smug.
Team gives him an unimpressed glare, which softens when he looks back at her. “Sasi it is,” he says, petting her head. Then, looking back to Win, he adds, “I’m naming the next one, though.”
Win just wiggles his eyebrows.
*
That night, Win and Team have only just curled up together when Win can tell Team wants to say something. He carefully brushes his nose against Team’s and murmurs, “What is it?”
Team looks at him for a heartbeat and then quietly asks, “Are you mad, Hia?”
“Mad?” Win asks, confused. “About what?”
“About Sasi staying with us.”
Win’s not in the habit of lying to Team, so he says, “I’m not mad. She’s great, and it’s not like we’ve never talked about getting a cat. But we don’t know if she has people looking for her. I’m just being… cautious.”
Team nods, mulling Win’s answer over. “Well, we’re looking,” he finally says. “If she has a family, we’ll find them.”
He says it with confidence, but Win can see he’s losing the spark he’s had in his eye all day. And he’ll be damned if he’s the one to make Team sad. “But also,” Win sighs exaggeratedly, “if I let you have your way, I’ll be the one sleeping in the cat bed, and you’ll be cuddling her.”
Grinning, Team asks, “Are you jealous, Hia?”
He gives him a pointed glare. “No, because Sasi is a cat.”
Team nods mockingly, but his arm settles more firmly around Win. They’re quiet for a few moments, and then Team tells him, “I would never make you sleep in the living room.”
Team does this sometimes; he says things with more sincerity than Win expects, his big brown eyes blinking up at him, and every time it makes Win’s heartbeat sprint. “Yeah?” He murmurs, a small grin creeping onto his face. He rubs his thumb over Team’s hip. “You gonna keep me here with you?” Win flirts.
Even after four years together, Win can still make Team blush. Sometimes it takes more effort, time giving Team somewhat of a defence. But when they’re in bed Team loses those, and it’s just them.
“Maybe,” Team says, voice stronger than the flush on his cheeks has Win expecting.
Win hums. “That’s fine by me, baby,” he says, leaning in to capture Team’s lips in a slow, deep kiss. His hand smooths up Team’s waist to brush over his pec, heat stirring in him when Team shivers against him.
It’s Team that increases the urgency of their mouths, biting at Win’s bottom lip as a hand twists into Win’s hair. He groans, gently pushing Team to lie on his back, hovering over him.
Win’s just started working his mouth over Team’s neck, his hands pulling up Team’s shirt to–
A loud meow sounds. There’s a few seconds where they both pause, Win’s face still pressed to Team’s skin.
Then another meow, accompanied by a scratch at the door. Win pulls back to stare down at Team. His cheeks are flushed, breathing heavy, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“I told you she should sleep in our room,” Team finally says.
Win rolls his eyes but flops onto his back so Team can climb out of bed to the door. “I’m never gonna have sex again,” he mutters to himself.
The second the door’s open, Sasi shoots onto the duvet, leaping next to Win and attacking his hand.
“Ow,” he hisses, gently trying to shake her off as her paws cling to him. “Sasi, no.”
Team snorts, breaking into actual laughter when Win glares at him.
“Yeah, yeah, just wait until it’s your hand she’s chewing on,” Win grouches.
“She’s not going to,” Team tells him, smug. “I’m her favourite.”
Win doesn’t believe him. He’s known enough cats – his boyfriend included – to know they’re equal-opportunity attackers.
Rather than helping Win with the tiny demon they’re looking after, Team goes to the bathroom, leaving Win to be sacrificed.
When he finally manages to free his hand from Sasi’s tiny but vicious mouth, he lifts her into the air above his chest. “Air jail for you.”
To her credit, she just accepts it, her legs dangling. She makes a tiny meow of protest when Win slightly sways her, but that’s it.
It drives home how well-behaved she is.
Swallowing past the sudden acid in his throat, Win places her back down, stroking over her back.
She takes the chance to start kneading biscuits into his chest, the short spikes of her claws making him wince.
Luckily, she doesn’t keep it up for long, lying down once she’s judged him comfortable enough to rest on.
When she curls into a ball on Win’s chest, purring like a chainsaw, he grins at her, shoving down the worry. “Yeah, I like you too.”
The creak of a floorboard has Win’s eyes flicking to the door, where Team’s watching with a smile. He doesn’t say anything, just shuffles back to bed. He burrows under the duvet, pillowing his head on Win’s outstretched arm so that he can look at Sasi, draping an arm over Win’s stomach.
A few moments pass in silence, Sasi a slow-breathing lump on his chest, Team’s arm a warm and familiar weight.
Then Team murmurs, “This is nice,” so quietly Win isn’t even sure he meant to say it, somewhere between awake and asleep. And it is. The three of them bundled together like this feels so right that, for a moment, the anxiety stops twisting his gut, and telling him he can’t have this.
Chest full of warmth, Win turns his head and presses a kiss onto Team’s forehead. Just for the night, he indulges the idea that no one is going to take Sasi. He lets himself believe that they can have this little family, and he falls asleep to Team and Sasi’s twin snores.
*
A week after she strolls into their lives, someone answers their ad.
Win walks out of the bathroom, one towel around his hips, another rubbing over his wet hair, to find Team sat up on the bed. Sasi is curled up in his lap, his phone next to him as he watches her sleep.
Team’s got the day off. By all accounts, he should still be asleep. Instead, he’s awake. There’s something to the line of Team’s shoulders; not quite tension, but definitely not normal. It’s enough for Win to immediately be on alert.
He runs his hand over Team’s hair, apologising quietly when it makes him jump. “Is everything okay?”
Team pats Sasi’s head, his eyes not meeting Win’s. “Someone called about her.”
Win’s stomach goes cold. “What did they say?” He chokes out, fear creeping through his bloodstream. He knew this would break both of their hearts. He knew they wouldn’t be able to keep her.
“They said she belonged to their neighbours,” Team says. “Apparently they moved cities a few weeks ago.”
Fighting the dryness in his mouth, he asks, “So they’ve been looking for her?”
Team shakes his head. “No. They left her. On purpose. They just left her, Hia.”
Win’s brain is slow to catch up. “What?”
“Their neighbours saw our posts and thought we should know. So we don’t keep looking.”
“They just didn’t take her with them?” Win’s brain can’t quite decide what to latch on to. There’s a level of anger starting to rise, fuelled by the idea that anyone would ever abandon any animal, never mind one as sweet as Sasi.
That anger is swiftly doused when he realises Team looks distraught. He won’t meet Win’s gaze, but there’s a tremble to his lips that tells Win he’s holding back tears, and that just won’t do.
“So she’s ours, Team,” he says, without a shred of doubt, pressing a hand to his cheek. No one’s taking her from them now. “They don’t deserve her.”
Team slowly looks up at him. There’s still sadness in his eyes, so Win sits down, putting his towel next to him. “Team, what they did was awful. But now she’s ours, and we’ll take care of her, right? We’ll feed her, and make sure she’s loved. She’s safe now.”
Team searches his face. “We can keep her?”
Win’s taken aback. Eyebrows raised, he asks, “You thought I’d say I have to drop her off at a shelter on my way to work?”
“No,” Team says, “but I thought you might, I don’t know, want to talk about it first.”
Deadpan, Win points out, “Team, we bought her a bed, a very expensive cat tower, and got her microchipped. I knew when she showed up in our living room that we were keeping her.”
Win wants to keep up the flat façade, but the smile that grows over Team’s face is too wide, too bright, and Win’s always been a sucker for it. “She’s ours,” Team says.
It’s not a question, but Win confirms, “She’s ours,” anyway.
The grin Team beams at him has a settled quality to it that has Win’s heart squeezing. He sits next to Team, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He scratches behind Sasi’s ears. She leans into it, purring, apparently awake and just enjoying the attention. “You’re stuck with us,” he tells her.
In response, she yawns, and presses biscuits into Team’s leg. Win huffs a laugh as he winces.
“Shut up,” Team elbows him, sniffling slightly. “Go get dressed, you’re dripping on the bed.”
Through sheer force of will, Win manages not to voice the double entendre. He does give Team a wicked smirk, though.
He gets a shove and a warning, “Hia,” for his efforts.
*
When Win goes to leave, Team is under the duvet, cuddling Sasi, and Win feels a pulse of jealousy. It’s one of life’s greatest cruelties that he can’t slide in next to them. When Team spots him hovering at the foot of the bed, though, he sits up, and purses his lips at Win.
A slow grin stretching his mouth, Win leans over, pressing a kiss to Team’s lips. Then he plants a gentle kiss onto the top of Sasi’s head. The smile Team gives him is soft, sweet.
“I’ll see you both later,” Win tells him, brushing hair out of his eyes. “Go back to sleep, baby.”
“‘Kay,” Team mumbles, tucking himself and Sasi back into the duvet. Win mentally curses having to work, already trying to work out if he can justify calling in sick on Team’s next day off.
Still, the thought of coming home to his little family is enough to set a soft fire in his chest, and he walks out of the door with a small smile, ready for the day.
