Chapter Text
Nyen growled as he slammed the door into his master's house, completely soaked, head to toe. That stupid fucking storm was pissing him off, his clothes felt scratchy and cold and he couldnt even smoke in this disgusting weather. The anger built deep in Nyens chest, releasing in a menacing growl that succsessfully scared away any of the other entities.
Nyen storms down the pink and orange hallway, each forceful stomp of his waterlogged boots squelching against his masters stained, disturbingly moist carpet. Nyen hates being wet as much as he hates vacumns, and the damp clothes make him want to tear off his own skin. He needs to strangle someone, maybe punch Nyons stupid face in or stab the weakling in the chest but instead he growls again, blinking away the burning in his eyes as he rushes to his room, kicking the door open, ignoring Nyons existance as he storms into their shared bathroom.
The green 70s tiles on the walls clash harshly with the orange rug and every inch of space is tinted brown from decades of cigarette and marijuana smoke.
Two brass bars are hung over the heater and his and nyons towels hang there, courtesy of their master both soft but worn. Snatching the other catmans towel, Nyen flicks off the light, allowing himself to slide down to his knees in the dark, resting his forehead on his knees as he sits for a moment, trembling from the cold, not wanting to move as he growls again, hating the dampness of his skin and his greasy hair and scratchy beard, hating how he feels hungry and cold, letting the waves of discomfort wash over him until he feels his own claws dig into his scalp. "Fuck fuck fuck FUCK", ever since he was a young human he would have these pathetic "tanturums", like a baby he hated them, they were unmanly and weak, they would make his father strike him and yell to set him straight. Everyone acted like it was bad but it worked and now Nyen was a perfect man, he was dominant, cold hearted and a skilled killer so why was he being a pussy over some dumb rain. His claws sunk deeper and he couldnt move, stuck in the waves of discomfort, the sensation of his undershirt sticking to his skin making him want to rip out his own nerves. It was too much and Nyen couldnt handle it.
Lighting flashes and thunder rips through the house, shaking the floor violently, but Nyen takes no notice, too lost in his mind as he slowly peels his clothes from his muscled body, taking breaks to clutch his head tightly, breathing heavily, a growl of frustration in his chest, as he dries himself best he can, laying against the wall until lightning cracks again. nyen slowly gets to his feet, leaving the soaked pants, socks, undershirt, and boxers on the bathroom floor with Nyons stolen towel, that weak bitch will clean it later. Nyen pulls himself up, the tension leaving his body slowly now that hes dry and in the dark, he glances at the mirror, panicking when he sees tear marks on his cheeks, dampening his hand and roughly scrubbing them away, not wanting to be caught.
To regain a sense of control Nyen slams the bathroom door open, seething and putting on his mask of rage, getting a small kick from the way Nyon jumps, stupid weakling. Theyve seen each other naked so many times Nyen is unphased as he throws open their shared dresser, finding black boxers, a stained undershirt, and nyon's vodka bottle, opening it without asking and taking a swig, immediately regretting it. The shit is strong and he can feel it burn in his throat, but he needs to take the edge off at any cost.
The alcohol kicks in fast in his weakened state and with a grunt he sets the bottle aside, collapsing onto the bottom bunk, too tired and clumsy to scale the ladder to his own. The vodka dulled his senses enough for him to not feel like ripping his skin off and he lets his face bury itself in nyons mattress near his feet. Just as hes about to fall asleep another bolt of lighting sears through his eyes and thunder shakes the bedframe, followed by heavy, irritatingly loud breathing.
That russian bitch is probably jerking off or something, Nyen reluctantly opens one eye, about to tell him off when he gets a good look at him. Nyon is shaking violently, curled in a ball, his arms over his head, face buried in his knees, his tail fluffed up like he saw a ghost. It takes nyen a second before he places where hes seen this before, the first year he was in the house.
⋆.˚
It was new year and that shitass kid wanted to celebrate, dragging luther and nyen into the dark yard to set off fireworks. Randal was so excited to have an accident and blow off a finger he was shaking. "brother do you think it will be my pinky first or my ring? Oh! maybe itll be a whole hand and I can find another from a racoo-". Nyen stopped listening, silently falling back, lighting a cigarette as he keeps a watchful eye on his master, not wanting him to be injured, even with his rapid healing. He saw the fuse lighting, watched the sparks fizz before he suddenly is hit full force in the chest by the weight of a grown man, knocking him over and into the cold grass, pinning him to the ground, a hand over his mouth, as the firework went off with a loud bang and a flash of light.He knew Nyon held back his strength, but he wasnt now, using everything in his power to keep him down. Nyen was forced to stare up at him, getting ready to bite before feeling a strange twist in his gut. Something isnt right, Nyon's pupils are small slits from fear and hes trembling like a leaf, praying in russian in between frantic gasps for air. Then as another one goes off his clawed hands clamp over nyens ears trying to protect him, not noticing the cigarette still smoldering between Nyens claws, burning a hole through his sleeve, lost in his own past, no longer fully aware. Thats when master luther appeared, scooping Nyon up with ease, holding him and murmuring soft apologies in german as he carried him back into the house, leaving nyen perplexed, staring at the smoldering cigarette while randal ran in circles in the yard, none the wiser. After that night, fireworks were not allowed ever to enter the home and Nyen policed that rule harshly, telling himself it was exclusively for his master and not the weakling.
Neither of them mentioned what had happened until one late summer night when the heat was disgustingly thick and they layed half naked on the cool bathroom tile passing a blunt around. Nyon was finally stoned enough that he was actually speaking, well munbling in his broken english, telling nyen out of nowhere about the freezing cold of his homelands, how the snow would be stained red by soldiers blood while bullets rained down, about the explosions that shook the ground, the screaming and searing flashbang and the things he had done to survive, long before he was nyon, before he was reborn. Nyen had never asked about it after, and nyon never mentioned it again, this is just how they are, their bond unspoken and deep, erotic in acts of subltely and vulerability only understood by one another.
⋆.˚
The thunder, the shaking foundation, the lack of his master to comfort him, it didnt take a genius to understand. "Shit.... you fucking pansy" Nyens words were cruel to offset the way he crawled closer, wrapping his muscular arms around his fellow catman, holding his shuddering frame to his chest and starting a deep purr from the back of his throat, trying to soothe him. "Youre safe, youre not there anymore" Nyon still shakes and the feeling in Nyens heart is thick and uncomfortable as the russian starts making the noises of a kitten seeking its mother, still curled up in the way he was trained to survive bombs. Fucking hell, nyen doesnt know how to handle this. His first urge is to leave, or beat some sense into him, but for some stupid reason, probably the alcohol, definitely the alcohol, he starts to lap at nyons hair, grooming him as he purrs louder, trying to soothe the catman, bonking his head against nyons with something strangely close to affection. Nyen's clawed hands slide through nyons arms to cover his ears, trying to block out the sounds of the thunderclaps like Nyon attempted to do for him all those years ago.
god this feels so stupid, but he doesnt know what else to do
⋆.˚
Nyen doesnt know how long he holds nyon but it feels like hours before the smaller catman starts to loosen up, pulling his head up from his knees and staring at Nyen with wide terrified eyes. Nyon was covered in sweat and stared at the american in a confused daze, his blue hair sticking up from Nyens grooming. Nyen, snorts "you look dumb" he mutters, voice slurred, not making eye contact.
Nyen considers emotions a waste of his time and energy and Nyon isnt anything but waste too, but rationally his muscles must be aching from being clenched for hours, and if his muscles were sore he wouldnt put up a good chase....or something.
Nyen may be terrible at emotions but his athletic prowess is very important to him so he gently guides him helping nyon stretch his shaking limbs, his muscles exhausted after being clenched for hours. Nyen rolls him to his side,wrapping his strong arms around Nyons waist and laying one leg over both of nyons, holding him securely and adding pressure like hes seen his master do. God he hopes hes doing this right, no he doesnt, he doesnt care at all. Nyon lays there, staring at the wall, so unresponsive Nyen cant tell if hes concious before the blue haired man starts to mumble. "Он мёртв.... Они все мертвы, и я не могу вспомнить..... Я не могу вспомнить... их лица..." Nyen has picked up small amounts of russian over the decades of living with an ex soviet soldier, enough to understand loosely what Nyon is saying. It causes a strange pang in his chest and when Nyon rolls over to hide his face in Nyens tank top, nyen doesnt stop him, letting him listen to the sound of his deep purring while he semi akwardly strokes his back, giving him another gentle cat bonk. "see it was just a bad memory you freak, no one will blow you up here, master will keep us safe" Nyens voice feels scratchy with some new feeling he doesnt understand as nyon slowly melts into his chest, bloodshot eyes falling closed. Nyen wipes the tears off his sleepy face, careful not to scratch him with his black claws, being as gentle as a cat man can be. "I wont let it happen, I'll flay them, just go to sleep..." Nyen grumbles but hes still purring as he readjusts nyon for a final time, curling up so he can burrow his face in Nyons hair, and nyon can listen to his heartbeat comfortably, clawed hands clutched to his chest as he drifts off.