Work Text:
Sunday sat on the side of his bed. He looked around his room, a satisfied smile resting on his features. He had just moved in with his boyfriend, and he wanted to add a homey vibe to the room. To really seal the deal.
What did he do? He decided to string up little fairy lights across the ceiling. When the regular light in the room got too much, they could turn on the fairy lights and enjoy the calm atmosphere.
Suddenly, Sundays eyes caught something wrong. One of the strings of light weren’t even with the rest of the room. Hm. He would have to fix that. Seemingly deciding his next move, Sunday stood up and looked around the room for where he left his stool: he couldn’t reach the ceiling and his wings were currently wrapped in bandages from him slipping on a plot-worthy banana peel and falling down a flight of stairs. Rip Sunday.
Once he found the stool and set it where he wished, Sunday mounted it and reached up to where the string lights were. He fixed it up, and looked back at the ceiling just to verify he approved of his work.
Just then, the door to the bedroom open. A very loud-purring filled sundays ears. It was Meowdas, Sundays loving boyfriend. The man-cat walked into the room and over to where his lover was. Without saying anything, he scooped Sunday into his arms and they both flopped onto the bed- meowdas on top.
Sunday couldn’t help but smile as meowdas started nuzzling him. He got like this when he was feeling a little touch deprived. The little bird started petting his partners head, grinning from ear to ear.
He loved this. Being able to have these little moments with the one he cherished. Oh how he wished it would be like this forever.
too bad :p
————
One question: what the fuck happened. A familiar buff-cat with the golden touch sat on the edge of a building.
He looked over the city he and his boyfriend had tried to move into just a month ago. Key word, tried.
Unfortunately it doesn’t always work like that.
His good eye glanced outwards, as he as he took in the view; people running all over, frantic. He took in the sounds: screaming, the skin-crawling blare of sirens.
What… What happened here?
“. . .”
Meowdas didn’t want to worry about the past. He didn’t want to have this reoccurring memories of his lover- his ex-lover would be more precise, actually. He didn’t want to be pained with the memories, with the emotions, the guilt, with the- well, everything.
Meowdas’ ears were back against his head. Once he started thinking about his birdie, he could never stop. He took a breath and held his stomach. Stress is no good for the little one, he told himself.
It was true. Regardless of his past and what had happened, he was here in the present now. All he could do was go forward in life, and pray his lover lay under the same stars, waiting.
————
Sunday paced white marble flooring. He walked to the end of the small room he was in and back again.
He had been pacing for what felt like hours. Sunday, who usually engaged in a clean and praise-worthy attire, was but a husk of that man now.
His feathers were in a ruffle, his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a week, and his eye bags were so noticeable you’d think he was carrying the weight of the world in them.
He was trying to think. What could he do to make the situation better? What could he do to fix this? He could never come up with a solid solution to his issues. Perhaps if he had a nap, he’d be able to think properly.
…but he’s obviously not going to do that.
Espically not when his family’s life could be on the line. Sunday glanced at notes the doctor had left him. Somehow, regardless of his condition, the baby was doing fine. It was the only good news Sunday had heard since the incident.
Yes, the baby was alive and fine, but the same couldn’t exactly be said about Meowdas. Sunday groaned. He set down the note chart and flopped onto a rather uncomfortable chair. He let his eyes closed as he tried to think of anything he could do.
He had to rectify the situation. He needed to. What would become of him if he couldn’t? His peers and the rest of his family would look down upon him in shame for this. They already di-
Wait… wait a fucking second. His family.
That was it.
With a newfound spring in his step, Sunday jumped up from his chair. He walked out of the room and into the hallway, making a call to the only other person he could trust.
How he hoped he’d receive the help he so desperately needed.
————
To make a long story short, it worked.
Today was a joyous day. In their apartment, Sunday sat on his treadmill, shirtless. It was a particularly hot day today, and Meowdas was working on fixing the ac in their apartment. Sunday was looking after the little one as she babbled on about the birds and the bees, without a care in the world.
Sunday glanced at the time, noting it was time for him to start running again. He checked his young one, making sure she was content, before turning on the treatmill and running for another amount of allotted time.
A cerainly hazy amount of time later, Meowdas strode into the spare room. It was actually going to be the young one’s room, but as she was still a newborn, she would remain in her parents room for the time being.
Meowdas got a glance at Sunday; sweat running down his perfectly chiseled out abs and- he couldn’t help himself but stare. The man-cat with the golden touch slowly inched his way closer to his now-fiancé.
They exchanged a glance.
…oh, they were having fun tonight.
THE END