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As a furparent, Anaxagoras makes sure a day in his schedule is always cleared for his child. No contact from his students for an assignment he assigned weeks back, or his teaching-assistant, scolding him to get some fresh air or stop being cooped up in his apartment. She’s the happiest whenever it’s the week for Deimos’s bi-monthly check up and grooming because she’s confident Anaxagoras’s making sure the little stray he picked up is healthy and in tip-top shape. It also serves as his outside date day with the maine-coon accompanying him, which is why she always— always gives Deimos treats when she visits.
And because of that he’s gotten heavy.
Deimos has gotten fat and round like her little, white Scottish-fold, Ica.
And Anaxagoras complains about it to deaf ears. Truly, how did he accept her as his assistant?
Anaxagoras entered the service clinic carrying the fluffy red maine-coon in his arms, who refused to walk and was acting all dramatic as soon as he stepped out of their apartment. Anaxagoras would’ve left the little terror at the door but the fool is as stubborn— or maybe even more so than his own owner.
“You’re not a kitten anymore, Dei. How could you ask me to carry your big, heavy body from our apartment to the clinic, huh?”
He’s been honestly complaining, even to his cat, the whole way.
Deimos meows, as if answering his owner, purring as he nuzzles under Anaxagoras’s chin before looking up at him with dilated pupils, acting like some little angel who did no harm. Anaxagoras stops and glares at the gigantic feline in his arms.
Playing the ‘I’m innocent’ card at your own owner. He scoffs.
“Don’t try to act cute, you sly little fool.” he nags, “You can walk perfectly fine. The pavement is safe from being hurtful to you and you need the exercise. All you do is laze around, eat, or pick a fight.”
Deimos yawns, uncaring for the words of his owner as he mewed back, making biscuits at the brown, cotton sweater-sleeve Anaxagoras wore before snuggling closer to him. He purred in content, hogging all the warmth he could get from Anaxagoras.
“You—” he sighs, knowing Deimos understands his words with how petty his own feline gets when he gets scolded, “Such a stubborn fool, who did you even take after.”
Anaxagoras grumbled as he made his way to the receptionist, being careful to avoid stirring the purring orange furball in his arms as he softly declared the cat’s name to the girl behind the counter.
“Ah, the little terror. Would you leave him here and pick him up or would you stay and watch?” the girl behind the counter asks as she typed in the necessary information.
“I’ll stay and watch. He’s too fussy if I get out of his sight.” Anaxagoras says, sighing tiredly at remembering the first and only appointment he set without him watching over Deimos. He was so sweet during medical but became a wild harpy at the grooming session. The amount of apologies Anaxagoras had to say was more than he’d ever muttered in his whole time at the Grove.
“I think little Deimos here just doesn’t like the thought that someone other than you will touch him.”
The girl chuckles, cooing when the feline opened his eye to peer at the sound, closing it again and ignoring the girl as he snuggled closer to Anaxagoras, which made his owner huff.
“He’s too spoiled.” Anaxagoras shifts Deimos in his arms for it’s getting tired carrying him fully, laying the waking sleepy cat on his shoulder, “He’s getting lazier the more weight he gains because of my students coddling him endlessly.”
The girl coos again at Deimos attempting to swipe and paw Anaxagoras’s cheek with his toe beans in complaint, accompanied by a sort-of annoyed whine at getting moved. Anaxagoras only blew air at his cat’s face, annoying the feline more so.
“He’s living a prince’s life, huh. Just sit at the lounge with the cutie until I call, sir.”
Anaxagoras thanked the girl and held Deimos’s assaulting paw to do a little wave, which the cat warbled at and tried to swat him with his other foreleg. He smiles amused at how Deimos acts as if his tail is not moving playfully, kissing the furry forehead affectionately as he makes their way to sit on the sofa.
Anaxagoras was playing with Deimos when a rev of an engine echoed from outside, catching every patrons’ attention inside the clinic along with their pets. Anaxagoras noticed a red motorcycle stop upfront, driven by a guy donned in full face helmet and a studded leather jacket that hugged along his prominent muscles as the rider made a move to take his helmet off.
Okay, Adonis.
Anaxagoras shook his head and returned his attention back down on his orange cat who was all but lazily stretched across his lap as he languidly played with the feather toy Anaxagoras’s been dangling in front of him.
‘He’s living a prince’s life’
No shit, Sherlock. A spoiled one at that. Anaxagoras deliberately slaps the soft feather on the creature’s nose in a soft way. Deimos tried to chase and bite it in annoyance.
A chime from the overhead bell on the door, along with a sudden series of gasps and murmurs echoed around him, made Anaxagoras curious on what caught the attention of the other patrons. There on the counter, with his strawberry blonde threads that shone, his various gold jewelry sparkling under the same light, and a cat peeking over the open collar leather jacket, stood the same Adonian-like biker from outside.
Wait.
A cat?
From afar, it’s a cute sight. A definitely-tall, broad shouldered, leather-backed bad boy on a motorcycle cradled oh-so gently a slim, cute, dual-toned cat with a sparkly princess-frill collar with a red gem.
It’s a mismatched cuteness.
He looked down on the orange cat on his lap, having gone to bare his nails against the innocent toy-feather in an attempt to catch it, his ears pulled back as jabbed his paws. Under all the thick, shiny fur were battle scars he got as the king of the alleyway during his days as a stray. Anaxagoras remembers how the same beautiful mane he donned was matted with blood or grime when he first took him in.
A little warrior in contrast for an academic like him. Perhaps even they share the mismatched aesthetics of those two.
Deimos had given up and relaxed back on Anaxagoras’s lap, huffing as he turned away from the toy and sulked. Anaxagoras chuckled at his feline’s display, carding his hands through his soft fur in comfort. The relaxed orange furball in his lap suddenly hissed and stood up, agitated by the guy who suddenly sat beside Anaxagoras.
Anaxagoras petted him in comfort, knowing it’s probably because of another feline in proximity. He simply called him in a gentle tone, “Deimos.”
“Yes?”
A smooth voice came from beside him. Anaxagoras turned his head to his side in shock. The same bad boy biker he saw earlier was the one that sat beside him. The big, blonde guy who entered the veterinary clinic that seemed tough and threatening with his red tattoos and cold face was looking at him with such bright amber eyes.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
He’s attractive.
It’s so curious that Anaxagoras got himself staring at the man after truly looking at him up close and not a passing look from behind or on the side.
He’s seen his fair share of attractive men— brooding, handsome, bad-type of men. But there’s something familiar with this man beside him. The blonde strands tipped with red that glowed like a flaming halo with the sun’s rays, the deep-set bright, amber eyes looking at him like he peers through his thoughts, and the red marks that clearly snaked around his torso from under his sleeves and collar.
Anaxagoras looks down on the red maine-coon in his arms. Deimos is still staring, hissing at the biker with his ears pulled back.
Flame-like hair, bright amber eyes, red slithering marks on his body—
Oh.
Anaxagoras cleared his throat, looking back at the other, lifting the wildly hissing furbaby in his arms to show him.
“Oh, sorry, I was calling my cat.”
An amused expression crossed the stranger’s face, his eyes slightly curving in amusement as a lopsided small smile decorated his face, “Huh. That maine-coon’s name is Deimos? For such a majestic creature, I was expecting a more mystical name than ‘terror.’”
Anaxagoras laughs, bringing Deimos back down as he attempts to pet him in comfort. He was still hissing towards his human clone, “Well, it’s a name well earned by this little terror of a feline.”
“Is that so?” The blonde chuckles, reaching out a hand towards Anaxagoras, “Mydeimos, by the way.”
“My– huh?”
“It’s my name.” The other laughs softly, amused.
Okay, Anaxagoras was a bit distracted but that was stupid of him to not realize it’s this stranger’s name.
“That’s why I thought you were calling for me. It was a nickname in our family when I was younger.” he chuckles, “For the same reason as your feline.”
“Oh my. What a funny thing by chance.” He cleared his throat, heat seemingly filled his cheeks. He took the other’s hand, shaking it as he introduced himself, “Anaxagoras.”
Mydeimos pulls back his warm hands, “Huh, I honestly thought you’ll have the same name as my little fellow too.”
Anaxagoras was about to ask where the pretty cat he saw earlier when Deimos hissed again, this time Anaxagoras could see where the little fellow was at. Perched and hiding on Mydeimos’s broad shoulder as they skittishly peered at the threatening other.
“Oh. What a pretty little fellow.” He cooed, reaching out, which prompted the beautiful Siamese cat to come out from behind blonde curtains and try to smell the other human’s hand. Anaxagoras noticed how their one eye was closed, perhaps a birth defect, chuckling at what the biker had stated earlier, “I see why you thought so. What’s their name?”
“Merlin.”
Anaxagoras looked both offended and amused as he peered at Mydeimos who cooly said the cat’s name, confidence in his frame as he stared back at Anaxagoras with a smirk, “How could you expect me to be named as Merlin of all names possible?”
The other simply shrugged, taking Merlin from his perched shoulder to his lap as he held onto the harness leash, letting the Siamese sniff yet stay far from the still wary Maine-coon.
“You seem like a person who can do great things but prefers to stay hidden. Plus, legend says that the great Arthurian magician was born from a mortal and an incubus.”
Anaxagoras indulges the other’s implied praise, teasing back with an amused eye-roll, “What a historian you are.”
Mydeimos chuckled coolly, as if he knew caught Anaxagoras’s attention by a subtle pick-up line, “I’m a librarian so books are definitely my specialty.”
“A librarian?” Anaxagoras says with a gasp.
Truly, you really can’t judge the book simply by its cover.
“What, with my big bod, bad stare, and tattooed arms got you thinking I’m a bouncer or something?” Mydei raised a brow, frowning.
“No. More like someone probably performing inside.” he says with a straight face.
No, in truth Anaxagoras thought he was a model or a singer to be honest.
Mydeimos was flustered. Honestly, Anaxagoras would be too, if he wasn’t used to utilizing his quick wits. Mydeimos opened his mouth, probably about to apologize for a sin he didn’t commit but a loud ‘ahem’ had the both of them to look at the standing attendant in front of them. It was the older nurse that aided the vet inside. Anaxagoras saw the girl on the counter mouthing a ‘sorry’ to him apologetically from behind the older attendant.
“Sirs. I’m very sorry to interrupt your quality time but which one of you is holding Deimos?”
Anaxagoras shifted his seat, which he didn’t notice— faced Mydeimos probably in interest of their talking. He cleared his throat and raised his hand, “I am.”
The old attendant huffs and glowers down at them, “Then it’s your turn now. Please continue your mating dance at the pet cafe across the street after.”
If the both of them flushed, it is simply on their witnesses.
The nurse returns back to the counter, waiting for Anaxagoras to stand and bid farewell to his unexpectedly enjoyable companion. He faced the biker, nodding to him.
“See you across the street, human-Merlin?”
Mydeimos smiles, hopefully asking the mint-haired other for a date perhaps before he turns away. Anaxa paused, faux thinking his option when he knows well enough that it’s a quick ‘yes’ on his part.
But what’s the fun in straight conclusions, why not make the other question his decision for a bit.
He turned slightly, a small smile on his face as he cradled Deimos properly, holding his little paw again to give a tiny wave to Mydeimos and Merlin.
“We’ll see, human-Deimos.”
Well, Anaxagoras may expect another welcomed addition to his quaint weekends during his child’s bi-weekly checkups.