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Cecilia has a cold, Phil is certain. She’s shivering , the poor little thing. The staff member had taken her temperature and determined that nothing was wrong, but Phil could tell otherwise. He’s never seen an eight week old kitten shake like that. Her poor little ears are cold to the touch. He was supposed to be helping clean out the kennels, he thinks, but he absolutely cannot put the kitten down under any circumstances, and besides she keeps looking at him like she’s scared .
And that’s how he ends up squatting down ever-so-carefully to scoop out the litter box in a kennel while fighting to keep his torso mostly upright because he’s put his sweater on backwards with Cecilia nestled in the hood.
“What are you doing,” someone says from behind him.
“Cleaning the– hello? Sorry? Have we met?” It must be another volunteer, one Phil hasn’t met before.
“Dan,” he sticks a hand out, and Phil takes it. They shake awkwardly. His hands are warm.
“Nice to meet you, Dan, I’m Phil,” Phil says, “and this is Cecilia.”
“I think your jumper’s on– oh ,” Dan’s eyes widen when he spots Cecilia, nestled up in the folds of the hood. “Oh my god,” he says weakly.
“She’s cold,” Phil explained. “I was holding her, but I felt bad just sitting around…”
“Can I–?” Dan asks, reaching for Cecilia in the hood. “I run hot.”
Phil nods. “Yeah, go on.”
Dan scoops Cecilia up and gently unsticks her claws where they stick in the fabric of the hoodie, and cradles her in both hands. She fits perfectly.
“I was just sitting around anyway– finished up with the dogs a few minutes ago.”
Phil initially mourns the loss of the purring bundle at his chest, but she settles into Dan immediately, and is nuzzling her way into his shirt, making a small squeak as she does so. She makes small biscuits and Phil’s heart melts all the way into a puddle.
“D’you normally stay with the dogs? I haven’t seen you here before, I think.”
“S’my first time.” Dan shrugs, gently, so as not to disturb Cecilia. “Grew up with dogs, so that’s what I tried first. Was never really much of a cat guy…”
“Well, you are now,” Phil says frankly. “Look at her, she loves you.”
“She’s scratching my hand a tiny bit,” Dan murmurs, his voice low, ducking down to stare at her with complete adoration in his eyes. A teasing dimple is appearing on his right cheek, and Phil is staring at it.
“Cats will do that,” Phil says. “I like dogs too, never did understand why people felt the need to pick a side. They just usually don’t have as many volunteers with the cats as with the dogs.”
“Oh,” Dan frowns. “That’s kind of fucked up, isn’t it?”
“Dunno, I think the dogs are easier to play with.”
“I never really got cats, I guess.”
“No?”
“I think I probably try to act towards them the same way I act towards dogs.”
“Well, yeah, that would do it.”
“Bit stupid really.” Dan’s still only got eyes for Cecilia.
“You’re doing well now,” Phil says, unable to keep the warmth out of his voice. The occupant of the room where he was supposed to be cleaning the litter box startles him with a cold nose on his hand, and he automatically leans back to pet him– Oscar, he remembers, or he’s pretty sure this is Oscar, anyway. Too many brown tabbies.
“Do they all love you?” Dan’s saying.
Phil laughs. “I wish I could say I was the cat whisperer. No, Phoebe hates me.” He points across the way to a small calico cat who’s sleeping curled up on a cat tree.
Dan, who must have a death wish or something, wanders over to the cat tree and reaches out with the hand that’s not holding Cecilia to stroke Phoebe between the ears. “Ow! Shit.”
Phil tries not to laugh again, but Dan’s giggling, and it’s infectious. “I guess that’s what I get for waking her up,” Dan says. Then, he ducks his chin to talk to Cecilia, “unlike you, you’re perfect in every way.”
“You should adopt her,” Phil says, without really thinking.
Dan’s face drops. “I can’t adopt,” he says, stiltedly. “Or– I’m not ready to. It’s just a lot, you know? Having responsibility for a pet?”
“Oh yeah,” Phil says. “Sorry, that was a bit forward. A lot of people volunteer here because they can’t get their own pet for whatever reason.”
“Do you have a pet?”
“I can’t, I’m allergic.”
“Oh!” Now Dan looks a little bit like he feels bad.
Phil smiles at him. “I just take like a buttload of allergy meds before I come here so I can have some animal time.”
“That’s really too bad,” Dan says. “You seem like you’d be a great cat dad. Or dog dad. Or whatever.”
Phil’s smile comes easier. “Thanks. I mean, you met me five minutes ago, you have no idea. I’m very clumsy.”
“I can tell that you really care,” Dan says softly. Phil gets a sense of depth from that little sentence, and he finds himself curious to prod at it, but maybe he shouldn’t.
“‘Course I do,” he says instead, getting up and crossing over to say hi to Cecilia again. “Who could resist that little face?”
He puts one finger gently on her head to pet her, and realizes belatedly that he’s gotten very up close and personal with Dan in the process. He catches a hint of something that might be cologne or deodorant, but mostly smells like a warm summer day. He glances up hurriedly, in case he’s crossed a line, but Dan looks content, a little smile pulling at that dimple he’s got as he watches Phil and the kitten. Upon receiving the pet, Cecilia’s ear twitches, and she yawns and stretches, which is very cute but results in her digging her needle claws into the meat of Dan’s palm, and he hisses.
“ Damn, those things are sharp.”
“Little daggers.” Phil stays there, petting her, as she curls back up against Dan’s chest and settles in there. “Oh, you’re done for, mate, you’ve got to hold her until she wakes up now.”
“I do?” traces of panic seep into Dan’s expression.
“I mean, do you want to wake her up to put her down?”
“No…”
“Come on then,” Phil says, taking pity on him, and touches his arm to point him towards the well-loved sofa at the back of the room. “Sit down at least so your arm doesn’t get stiff.”
Dan walks over to the sofa and folds into it ever so carefully, Cecilia remaining perfectly undisturbed in the palm of his hand.
“I couldn’t possibly have this come and live with me,” he murmurs. “Under no circumstances.”
“Why not?”
“Well, this would happen, wouldn’t it, and then I’d never get anything done or go anywhere.” He frowned. “Not that I usually get anything done or go anywhere, I guess.”
“Seems like a wash,” Phil says with a shrug.
“With you around I’d have absolutely no hope of becoming a productive member of society, would I?” He says, in an indulgent baby-voice, to the cat.
Phil laughs. “I’d be hopeless. As it is, I had to turn off the screen time notifications because they were scaring me.”
Dan looks up at him. “They were scaring you? So you turned them off?” He says, carefully.
Phil waves his hand. “Yeah.”
“Jesus Christ, man.”
Phil’s grinning. He sits beside Dan on the couch and reaches to pet Cecilia again. Dan shifts slightly, and their thighs press together.
“She’s stopped shivering,” Phil notices. “You must be a good hot water bottle.”
“I’ve been told that,” says Dan.
Phil looks at him, considering. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” He’s avoiding eye contact, and a spot of red is developing just above his jaw, only on one cheek.
“Did you know that Jupiter’s red spot isn’t there anymore?” Phil blurts.
“What?”
“Yeah. It was like, a storm that lasted a really long time– two hundred years, or something like that– and so we’ve only ever seen Jupiter with the red spot, but then the storm ended, so, no more red spot.”
“I didn’t know that.” He seems like he’s genuinely interested. “Are you serious? Should I believe you? A guy who’s sitting here wearing his hoodie backwards?” and Phil, feeling a door open somewhere, makes a choice.
“How about this, I’ll buy you coffee if you’ll let me convince you.”
Dan looks at him. “Really?”
“Really.”
Dan pouts. “But then I’ll have to put down the cat?”
Phil laughs, a real, loud laugh, and Dan catches it too. The movement in his chest jostles Cecilia, and she shakes her little head and promptly wiggles out of Dan’s hand, and down onto his lap.
“Whoops,” Phil says, catching her with one hand and getting up swiftly to return her to her pen with her siblings. She does seem warmer, he thinks. This Dan guy must be magic. Phil’s rather inclined to find out for himself. His bed has been terribly cold, lately.
Dan seems at a loss for what to do with himself now that the kitten’s gone, and he’s folded in on himself on the couch. Phil holds out his phone, and it takes Dan slightly too long to notice.
“Sorry?”
“Your number,” Phil prompts. “Put it in.”
“Oh.” Dan looks completely shell-shocked.
“I mean, if you want.”
Dan’s face splits into a beautiful grin. “You don’t need to ask me twice.” And he does.