Work Text:
The walk home from work was as usual. Tiring, long, painful for your feet… What made it worse today was the storm overhead. You heard it was to start after you’d be home safe and dry, but, unfortunately for you, the sky had other plans. Soaked to the bone, shivering, you unlocked your apartment door, taking a bit longer due to your shaking, damp fingers.
You place your coat on the coat rack, grimacing at the slowly but surely forming puddle beneath it that you’d probably have to clean up later. You decided not to set your bag down there like you normally do. Yawing as you walk lazily forward, the voice of your partner calls to you from the living room.
“Hello, darling!~” the large cat man sang your way. “How was your day at work?” You let out a small noise of displeasure before falling into his lap, burying your face in his prominent chest fluff. He pets your head, only to pull away as his glove dampens from your hair.
“Dear, you’re sopping wet!” Pocketcat grasped your hand in his dry glove. “And cold to the touch! This simply won’t do, no no!” Despite your protests of ‘I’m fine’, he picked you up bridal style and headed to the bathroom. It always startled you how easily he could carry your weight, but it also made you feel safe. Not just being carried by your lover, but knowing he’s strong enough to do so means he’s strong enough to fight on your behalf. You’ve seen the aftermath of said fights before… it was never pretty.
Soon you were in the bathroom. Despite the pleading from the cat man to help you bathe in a nice bubble bath, you decided to take a quick shower. The water felt wonderful on your frigid skin, feeling coming back to your toes and fingers. You heard Pocketcat enter the bathroom a second time and quickly leave. You peaked your head out to see a fresh set of pajamas, socks, and a clean towel. You smiled as you began to wash your hair. Despite… well, him being himself, you quite enjoy his company.
Both absolutely starved of physical affection, it started as a friends with benefits type deal. You aided each other with your bodily desires and then parted ways until the next time you needed some relief. Eventually, however, you started developing feelings for him. You couldn't tell if he reciprocated due to his mannerisms being strange before this started, but you still managed to ask the question one day. His eyes lit up and he enthusiastically agreed.
That had been a while ago now. Eventually he moved in, (you couldn't let your love live on the streets, despite him doing so for God knows how long) and here you both are now. Well, at this moment just you. Rinsing the last of the shampoo from your hair, you stood in the water a minute longer. It really did feel nice and warm.
Unfortunately it was time to turn the water off. With a small sigh, both of sadness and relaxation, you shut the water off. Immediately the warmth started to leave you and you quickly grabbed the towel off the counter. You swiftly dried yourself off, having been dripping wet too much for your liking today. Once dry, you picked up the pajamas. You hadn't seen this pair before… they were your favorite color and oh so soft. The fabric made you relaxed just feeling it. Pocketcat must have got them for you.
The pajamas were absolutely perfect. Just the right size for every part of you, as if tailored to your exact body. You wouldn't be surprised if they were. Pocketcat had many connections and favors to cash in from said connections. He probably knew a tailor somewhere in this town. Opening the door, you smell something lovely. Following the scent to the kitchen, you're stopped before you can enter by bumping straight into your love's chest.
“There you are, my sweet! I was beginning to wonder what was taking you. I suppose you needed that, huh?” he stroked your damp hair with his hand, now ungloved. You nodded, smiling softly. “Oh, and I see the pajamas fit you perfectly!” Pocketcat cooed as he rubbed his hand down your sleeve, grabbing your much smaller hand in his. “I was worried I had measured you wrong. Glad to know I didn't!”
You don't know when he measured you. You weren't sure if you should bother asking. It's not like you minded, especially if this was the outcome. Speaking of which, you thanked him for the pajamas, punctuating your thanks with a kiss on his cheek, which you needed to stand on tiptoes to reach. You thought he might pass out with how much he enjoyed that small peck. Even though you pet and kiss him as often as you can, he always acts as if he's never been so much as looked at in years. It was always adorable.
Pocketcat turned you around and ushered you into the living room, a roaring fire going in the fireplace. “Now you go sit and be pretty like always! I have a surprise in the making and wouldn't want you to spoil it,” he winked and turned back into the kitchen. Guessing by the smell, it seemed to be some kind of sweet. Your stomach grumbled at that thought, remembering you hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning.
The couch was as comfy as always. Despite the purple and white fur littering it, you loved to curl up with a nice book near the fire. Your favorite blanket was there. Pocketcat must have gotten it from your shared room. Always so thoughtful, he is. You pulled it up over yourself, making sure to tuck it under your feet and rear so no cold air gets under. The book you had been reading was on the table next to you, but you were too tired from work today to even reach for it, much less comprehend what you were reading. You began to doze off…
A small tap on your shoulder woke you. You hadn't realized you fell asleep. You looked up to see Pocketcat, that silly grin he always had plainly plastered on his face. His eyes apologetic, he spoke quietly, “I'm sorry to wake you dear, but I can't wait to show you the surprise!” He clasped his hands together in glee. His over exaggerated motions more than made up for his lack of facial expressions. You giggled as you stretched out, asking him what he made.
“Well, I remember you saying you enjoy cookies,” he begins, talking with his right hand as usual. His left was in his pocket, also as usual. “Specifically, you said you enjoy a certain type… so I managed to get the ingredients and make some!” Your stomach growled again. You could kill for some of your favorite cookies right now. He seemed to know this, as he went to the kitchen and brought back the tray. “They've already cooled, so help yourself.”
They were absolutely delicious. Your compliments went to the chef! And boy was he eating the praise up. It was almost sweeter than the cookies for him. So was seeing you so happy, munching away at quite a few. You stopped yourself on your fifth one, realizing how many you had. There were a dozen to start with, now only 5 remain. Pocketcat had a couple. Who wouldn't enjoy the fruits of their labor?
“All done, my dear?” he questioned, staring at your beautiful face, covered in crumbs. You nodded, wiping your face with a napkin he had brought. “I'm glad you enjoyed these so much. Just as well, because I made another batch. I'll put these with them and seal them up for tomorrow. Maybe you can bring some to work?” That sounded like a lovely idea. Just what you need to get you through the work day, a nice treat.
Once the cat man returned from the kitchen, he picked you up and set you on his lap. You nuzzled your face into his neck, nearly making yourself sneeze with his fur collar. He purred happily as he rubbed his hand up and down your back, the other holding you close to him. He began talking about his day, the travelers he traded with, the strange things he got as trade, the stray cat he saw and accidentally scared away. You loved listening to him talk, and he loved talking. You started to doze off again after a couple hours of talking about your days, and he seemed to take notice.
“Oh my darling, you're quite tired aren't you?” He asked, seeing you yawn another time. You had been for the past few minutes. You nodded your head, closing your eyes and resting against his shoulder. He nearly squealed, but resisted so as not to bother your tiredness. “It is getting rather late,” he spoke as he looked out the window. The storm had long since passed, the last rays of the sun now showing through the remaining clouds. “Why don't we go to bed. Does that sound nice?”
Before waiting for an answer he already knew, he picked you up again, carrying you to the bedroom. Once there, he gently laid you on your side, covering you back up in your blanket. Pocketcat didn't have any pajamas. He did at least take his boots off to go to bed. You honestly didn't know if he had any other outfits. If he did, they were all the same. His suit was always clean the next day, no matter how much blood or dirt got on it, so maybe he did. Your thoughts were interrupted as he climbed into bed on his side, getting under the blanket with you.
“I'm glad I chose this fabric. It's so lovely to the touch,” he purred, rubbing his hand up and down your back. That was one of his favorite things to do. It was almost like he was petting you like you did him. It brought you a great amount of comfort, especially now as you nuzzled into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. You sighed happily as he kissed the top of your head, now fully dry. Sleep came quickly to you, but not before you heard him whisper sweet ‘I love you's and such. It made the walk in the storm well worth it.