Archive of Our Own

Over the last few weeks of Harry staying with him, they have grown into a sort of domestic routine. Harry has decided to live up to his reputation and bought an armful of cookbooks from which he cooks almost every evening, and Ed has decided to stay true to his own reputation and eats every evening. During the day they sometimes hang out together, and they sometimes don’t. The best thing about having Harry here, Ed thinks, is the constant awareness that he doesn’t have to be by himself if he doesn’t want to. There’s just another energy to the house when he knows it’s occupied by living souls other than him and Graham.

Much as Ed loves visiting his mum and dad, he hasn’t actually lived with them since he was sixteen years old. It feels… wrong, now. Like he’s playing a part. Wasting around on the sofa being waited on by his mother until she gives him that look with the raised. Here, at home, with Harry, even though he cooks and honestly does a good part of the other household chores, Ed doesn’t feel like a child. He doesn’t feel like an adult either, truth be told, but he feels more like himself.

So coming home from the occasional day trip to see mates or back down to London for a business thing that couldn’t be handled over the phone to the smell of dinner and Harry lounging about somewhere has gotten pretty normal. Harry hanging out with Ed’s cat has gotten equally normal. What Ed does not expect to see, is the second cat, the one Harry’s currently trying to make comfortable in a cardboard box.

“Um,” Ed says, stepping closer and watching the cat, which he now recognises as the neighbourhood stray, twirl around her own axis before she settles down on the blanket Harry has fitted the box with.

“Hi,” Harry drawls, turning to smile at Ed over his shoulder.

“Did you… adopt a cat into my home?” Ed asks.

“Well, you see,” Harry starts, standing up from the floor and making his way over to the kitchen as he goes on to explain. Ed follows automatically.

“You said it’s mostly the Thomases over on the next property who feed her, right? But it’s not technically their cat?”

Ed did say that.

“And I haven’t seen her in a week, so I went over there to ask them if she was alright.”

Of course he did.

“And, well, as you may have noticed… she’s gained a bit of weight.”

Ed has not, in fact, noticed.

“She’s pregnant. And the Thomases were going to have them all put down,” Harry says, eyes wide.

“So you adopted a pregnant cat and all her kittens?”

Harry shrugs, a chagrined expression on his face.

“Well, what was I supposed to do? Just leave her with them and wait for them to take her babies away from her to, to, to kill them?”

Ed sighs. “No. Of course not. But… we can’t just adopt an entire litter of kittens.”

“I mean, we can, technically,” Harry points out. “You live on an actual farm and we’re both loaded. We could probably adopt every kitten in the UK, if we really set our mind to it.”

“And who’s going to be looking after our, what, six cats? When we’re eventually out on tour again?”

“Well. I don’t know. We could pay Rosie Thomas to.”

Ed can’t help but laugh at that. “I’m sure she, like every other teenage girl, would be delighted to do whatever you ask.”

“Hush. Don’t be rude,” Harry says, though there’s a smile pulling at his lips. Ed bops him on the nose.

“And, actually, Niall’s her favourite.”

“Niall’s everyone’s favourite,” Ed nods, just to see Harry’s brow furrow. “But you’ll do in a pinch, I’m sure.”

“Hey,” Harry complains half-heartedly.

Ed sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Honestly though. Are you really planning on keeping a whole litter of kittens here?”

“We could start a cat rescue,” Harry suggests, grinning as charmingly as he can.

“That is actually my retirement plan, but I’m only twenty-four, you know? I think I have another few world tours in me.”

“Yeah. Well. I was actually thinking, we could give them away? Find people who can’t afford to have pets and give them a cat and, like, a cheque? Or something? A fund? I don’t know. Something like that,” Harry says. He’s doing that thing with his face where he suddenly looks exactly as young as he is, if not younger, and Ed’s heart melts over it every single time.

“You want to donate the cats to charity, basically.”

“Not Snowball. And maybe we could keep one of the kittens?”

“You named her Snowball?” is somehow all Ed can think to ask. He could argue with Harry of course, about how impractical it is to adopt more cats, not knowing what their schedules would be like in the years to come, but it’d be hypocritical, wouldn’t it, what with how he adopted Graham without a second thought. If Taylor can have two cats all on her own, they should be able to handle three between the two of them.

Snowball though? The cat’s completely black, safe for a white mark on her fore- oh.

“Yeah,” Harry beams. “Suits her, don’t you think?”

Ed sighs and then turns away to grab himself a glass of juice. “Sure.”

He hears Harry cheer quietly behind himself, and then arms wrap around his waist as he’s pouring the orange juice.

“Thank you,” Harry murmurs, hooking his chin over Ed’s shoulder. Ed leans back into the touch without thinking. “I’ll look into the cat rescue thing for when we retire.”

Ed huffs an amused breath. He’s not sure when this started being their home, their cats, their retirement, but there’s a happy squirming in his belly that doesn’t want to argue.

“You do that.”