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The bell above the door chimed softly as Leo stepped inside the café, the warmth immediately wrapping around him like a blanket. The place smelled faintly of coffee, pastries, and something unmistakably comforting. Home, maybe?
“Welcome in” a voice called out gently.
Leo looked up and froze.
Behind the counter stood the barista, sleeves rolled up, apron dusted with cat hair, cradling an orange kitten against his chest. He was smiling down at it, utterly fond. He has straight, dark hair that falls lightly over his forehead, framing his face and giving him a gentle look. The natural light coming from the café window highlights his pale, clear complexion, making his feature appear more even delicate.
“Baby, don’t eat that,” the beautiful barista murmured, tapping the kitten’s nose. “That’s not food.”
Leo blinked.
Baby?
As if on cue, a gray cat hopped onto the counter, and the barista sighed fondly. “You too, baby. You already ate.”
Leo hadn’t even realized he was smiling until the pretty barista glanced up and caught him staring.
“Oh! sorry,” he laughed, faint pink spreading across his cheeks. Oh he looks so cute when blushing, Leo almost reached out to pinch the barista's cheeks.
“It’s… cute,” Leo said before thinking. Then, quickly, “I mean…uh. The café. Cute café.”
The barista-Anxin, as written on his name tag, smile widened. Even his name sounds beautiful.
Leo had only meant to visit once. Just to sit, drink a coffee, pet a cat or two. That was it.
But the next day, he came back.
And the day after that.
Soon, the barista- no, Anxin, stopped asking if he wanted the menu. His usual drink appeared on the counter without a word. A cat, usually the orange one, always ended up curled in Leo’s lap.
“You’re basically part of the furniture now,” Anxin teased one afternoon, watching Leo carefully spoon food into a stray cat’s bowl outside the café.
Leo shrugged. “Guess I like the atmosphere.”
Anxin hummed knowingly. “Or the cats.”
“Yeah,” Leo said, then softer, “the cats.”
Closing time became their favorite hour. The lights dimmed, the café was quiet, and Anxin moved through the space with practiced care, checking bowls, whispering goodnights to the cats.
“Baby, don’t jump!”
“Baby, you’ll get brushed tomorrow.”
“Baby, come here.”
Leo leaned against the counter, watching him with something warm blooming in his chest.
It hit him one evening, sudden and terrifying in its clarity, as Anxin laughed when a kitten pawed at his sleeve.
Leo wasn’t just staying for the café.
Or the cats.
He was staying for the way Anxin spoke gently to everything he loved. For the way Leo felt like he belonged just by being there.
After closing, Anxin handed him a broom. “You don’t have to help, you know.”
Leo took it anyway. “I want to.”
Anxin looked at him then, really looked, and smiled softly.
“Thank you,” he said.
Leo thought about all the times Anxin had called the cats baby, the word filled with care and warmth.
He wondered, quietly, if one day…maybe…he might hear it meant for him too
The next time Leo came in, Anxin was half-asleep on the counter, chin propped on his hand while a kitten gnawed gently on his sleeve.
“Baby,” Anxin murmured drowsily, nudging the kitten’s forehead. “That’s not food…”
Leo paused just inside the door, heart melting at the sight.
“You say that a lot,” Leo said gently.
Anxin blinked awake. “Huh?”
“Baby,” Leo repeated, smiling. “You call everyone that.”
Anxin thought about it, then shrugged. “I guess I do.”
The kitten, the gray one, wriggled free and waddled toward Leo, who scooped it up easily.
“Well,” Leo said softly, “it fits.”
Anxin watched the way Leo held the kitten; careful, steady, like it mattered, and felt something warm bloom in his chest.
From that day on, Leo started coming earlier. Sometimes before opening, just to sit on the floor with Anxin while they sorted food bowls and talked about nothing in particular.
“Do you ever get tired?” Leo asked once, watching Anxin gently clean a cat’s paws.
Anxin shook his head. “Not really. They make it easier.”
Leo hummed. “You do that too.”
Anxin paused. “Do what?”
“Make things easier.”
Anxin looked at him then, surprised, then smiled in that quiet, sincere way that always made Leo’s chest ache.
One rainy evening, business was slow. Thunder rolled softly outside, rain tapping against the windows. The cats clustered closer together to Leo and Anxin.
A kitten clipmbed into Anxin’s lap. Another squeezed between Leo and Anxin until their shoulders pressed together.
“Guess they’ve decided,” Anxin said.
Leo smiled. “They’re good judges.”
Anxin laughed softly and leaned his head against Leo’s shoulder, completely unthinking.
Leo went very still, then slowly rested his head against Anxin’s.
Neither of them moved for a long time.
“Leo?” Anxin murmured.
“Yeah?”
“You’ll come back tomorrow, right?”
Leo smiled, eyes closing. “Always.”
Anxin’s fingers found Leo’s sleeve, curling there gently, like he was afraid the moment might disappear if he didn’t hold on.
“Good,” Anxin said quietly. “The babies like you.”
Leo glanced at him, fond and warm and utterly sure.
“So do I.”
Anxin’s breath hitched, he smiled, soft and glowing, and whispered
“Then… stay.”
Leo stayed.
And somehow, without a single grand confession, without anything changing too fast or too loud, the café became a little warmer, the cats a little smugger, and the space between Leo and Anxin disappeared entirely.
He came back the next morning with a bag of treats he absolutely did not need.
Anxin noticed immediately.
“You spoil them,” Anxin said, crouching down as a trio of cats gathered at Leo’s feet, tails high, eyes bright.
Leo shrugged, already kneeling to let them sniff his fingers. “They deserve it.”
Anxin smiled at him in that soft way that made Leo feel like he’d been doing something right without even trying.
“You’re good with them,” Anxin added.
Leo glanced up. “I just copy you.”
That made Anxin laugh, a light, unguarded sound that lingered in the café long after it faded. Leo felt it settle somewhere warm in his chest.
By now, the cats treated Leo like he belonged. One claimed his jacket as its personal bed. Another followed him so closely he had to watch his steps.
“Baby,” Anxin scolded gently, scooping the cat up. “Don’t trip him.”
Leo grinned. “It’s okay. I’d let them do anything.”
Anxin raised an eyebrow. “Anything?”
“Anything,” Leo confirmed, solemn.
Anxin shook his head, amused. “You’re impossible.”
Late afternoons were Leo’s favorite. The café was quiet, sunlight pooling on the floor, Anxin humming softly as he wiped down tables. Leo sat nearby, a cat asleep in his lap, another curled against his shoulder.
“Comfortable?” Anxin asked.
Leo nodded. “Very.”
Anxin hesitated, then reached out to brush cat hair off Leo’s sleeve. His fingers lingered for half a second longer than necessary.
Leo’s heart did something stupid.
That evening, as they closed up together, Anxin handed Leo a small cup of milk.
“For you?” Leo asked.
“For the cats,” Anxin said seriously. Then, after a beat, slid another cup toward him. “And for you.”
Leo laughed. “Thank you.”
They sat on the floor after locking up, backs against the counter, cats piled around them like warmth given shape. Anxin leaned slightly into Leo’s side without thinking.
Leo froze…then relaxed.
“This is nice,” Anxin murmured.
“Yeah,” Leo said softly. “It really is.”
Anxin looked at him then, eyes gentle. “You know… you don’t have to pretend you’re just visiting anymore.”
Leo smiled, something tender and certain settling in his chest. “Good. Because I don’t want to.”
A cat climbed into Leo’s lap. Anxin reached over, absentmindedly smoothing Leo’s hair the same way he did the cats.
“Baby,” Anxin murmured without thinking.
Leo’s ears burned. Anxin realized what he’d said and went very still.
“Oh, I meant-”
Leo turned to him, smiling so softly it almost hurt. “It’s okay.”
Anxin’s cheeks warmed. “You’re… comfortable here.”
“I am,” Leo said. He glanced around; the café, the cats, Anxin. “With you.”
Anxin’s smile was small, shy, and very real.
Outside, the city moved on. Inside, the café stayed warm, full of quiet happiness, and two people who had already chosen each other without needing to say it yet
Furs, Fluff, Confessions
Anxin didn’t mean to do it first. He just want to tease Leo by calling him “baby”.
It slipped out the same way it always did.
“Baby, no! don’t climb that~”
Anxin said but he's not looking at the cat.
Leo froze mid-step.
The cat jumped down unharmed, completely innocent, but Leo was no longer looking at it. He was looking at Anxin, eyes wide, cheeks pink.
Anxin realized. Too late. “Oh,” he said weakly.
Leo blinked. “…Was that for the cat?”
Anxin opened his mouth and closed it. Then, very deliberately, he walked over, reached out, and tucked Leo’s hair.
“No,” Anxin said softly. “That one wasn’t.”
Leo’s brain short-circuited. “Oh,” Leo managed.
Anxin’s heart hammered, but he smiled anyway; small, fond, a little shy.
“You’ve been here every day. You help me feed them, clean up, stay late. You take care of this place like it’s yours.” He paused, fingers still resting lightly on Leo’s chest.
“And you look at me,” Anxin added quietly looking at the cats, “the same way you look them”
Leo swallowed. “How do I look at you?”
“Like I’m home,”
Anxin said. Silence bloomed between them, thick and warm and safe. A cat hopped onto the counter between them and yawned.
“Baby,” Anxin said again, glancing down, then looked back up at Leo, eyes bright with teasing courage. “Both of you.”
Leo laughed, soft and breathless, and leaned in until their foreheads touched.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” he murmured.
Anxin nodded. “Yeah.”
Leo’s hands found Anxin’s waist naturally, like they’d always belonged there.
“You know that means I’m never leaving, right?”
Anxin smiled, radiant. “Good.” He pressed a quick, gentle kiss to Leo’s cheek, barely there, warm and real. “Stay with me, baby,” Anxin whispered.
Leo smiled so hard it almost hurt. “I already am.” Around them, the cats blinked lazily, entirely unsurprised, because of course this was always going to happen.
It was quiet in the café, the kind of quiet that only came after everything had been put away and nothing else was expected of them. Leo finished locking the door and turned around to find Anxin still standing by the counter, fingers absently tracing the wood, eyes unfocused.
“You okay?” Leo asked softly.
Anxin nodded, then shook his head, then laughed quietly at himself.
“I am. I just… like this. When it’s just us.”
Leo crossed the space between them without rushing. He stopped close, close enough that Anxin could feel him there, steady and warm, but not touching yet.
“I like it too,” Leo said.
Anxin looked up at him. His expression was open, trusting, a little shy. He didn’t move away. Leo lifted his hand slowly, giving Anxin time to stop him. When Anxin didn’t, Leo’s thumb brushed gently along Anxin’s jaw, tilting his face up just a little.
“Tell me if you want me to stop,” Leo murmured.
Anxin’s answer was soft but certain. “I won’t.”
That was all Leo needed. He leaned in first, unhurried, guiding rather than taking. Their lips met in a careful, gentle kiss, warm, brief, full of intention. Leo kept it light, protective, like he was holding something precious. Anxin melted into it instinctively, hands fisting lightly in Leo’s shirt as if grounding himself there. When Leo pulled back, it was only by a breath. Anxin’s eyes were still closed. When he opened them, he smiled, small and content.
“That was…” Anxin started, then laughed quietly.
“Yeah.” Leo smiled back, softer than Anxin had ever seen him. He rested his forehead against Anxin’s, hand still warm at his waist. “I’ve got you,” Leo said, like a promise.
Anxin relaxed fully then, leaning into Leo without hesitation. “I know. Will you stay?”
Leo pressed a soft kiss to the top of Anxin’s head. “Always,” he whispered. Anxin smiled, warm and content, curling slightly against him. “Always,” he echoed. The cats purred around them, the lights dimmed low, and the café held its quiet magic. In that simple, perfect moment, nothing else mattered, just the two of them, together, safe, and exactly where they belong.