Chapter Text
Juan genuinely didn't suspect a thing while it happened– didn’t even think to discern Tina’s overly wide smile or Aldo's raised brows when they approached him with their request. Only after the ‘defense potion’ he had agreed to help test fully settled down his throat did he realize that something was up.
First, an uncomfortable tingle thrumming under his skin. It's disquieting and barely there, similar to signs that forebode the flu. Then, his gaze caught the avid, almost expectant expression on their faces as they peered at him, both resisting the urge to giggle. Finally, the unnatural feel of the potion seeping into his bones instead of just his bloodstream.
But the feeling of wrongness hadn't truly registered until he was helplessly pressing against the cold, polished quartz walls in the hallway, body shuddering uncontrollably. A sharp, surging sensation raced from the back of his skull to the tip of his tailbone in pulses. The pain had mingled like an internal burn.
Tina's panic-stricken eyes had darted desperately between Aldo and Juan's trembling figure. Her voice cracked as she sputtered a ‘No- I- I don't know,’ after he had asked if this was supposed to be happening. Juan had fought the impulse to yell and tried to turn towards Aldo. The movement was too jerky and his knees buckled under him, forcing him onto all fours on the rough floor. When the quivers had finally stopped, the hallway fell into a deafening silence.
Then Tina gasped.
Something on his head twitched in response to the sound.
“¡No mames, güey!” Exclaimed Aldo.
“Oh my gosh,” Tina practically preened. “That is adorable.”
They didn't do anything to fix it. In fact, they were completely unfazed by his furious screaming. Juan had no choice but to believe Aldo’s dismissive ‘It’ll go away soon, compa’ and watched the two of them disappear down the hallway, leaving him with a furry little problem.
What Juan wants to do after is barricade himself inside his room until the it wears off.
What Juan has instead are three meetings, two inventory disputes, and Vegetta’s trust.
Naturally- Inevitably, almost everyone finds out about it. News travels quickly in The North with so many people living under the same roof. It's a convenience that he usually appreciates as the second in command, but right now, the lack of secrecy feels like a physical weight against his chest.
Molly is first, she sneakily tries to pet his ears every chance she gets. Roier and Quackity make a game out of it, stealing every hat or hood he scavenges until he eventually stops bothering. Senpai and Ishan are relentless in an entirely different way. Ishan snaps photos of him doing any ordinary task while the two of them talk over each other about how it's going to be the biggest headline on Q News. Senpai even asks if he minds doing a video segment to boost viewership and Juan almost loses it. He doesn't get a break from either of them until he tells them a bullshit lie of bigger news being at the Regime.
Robleis, at some point, leaves a bowl of milk on his desk like a sincere gift. Out of everything, it feels the most humiliating.
Somehow, he knows it's not even the worst to come.
Foolish had been out in the desert all day, chasing some half-baked build idea under the relentless sun. He returns as the sunlight turned golden and long, dust on his clothes, and that familiar restless energy still humming under his skin.
“Is it true?” Foolish says, barging in. He swings the door open and scurries through the doorway.
Juan immediately yanks the beanie down over his brow and pinches the fabric taut against his temple to stop it from riding up. There's not much he can do to hide the mount that gathers at the top, so he grinds his teeth in his mouth and barks out, steely. “Get out of my office.”
Foolish predictably doesn't falter. Instead, an infuriating grin spreads across his face and he saunters closer. Sun-flushed and wind tousled, he looked like he had carried the desert heat in with him. The iris of his eyes glows with a familiar, teasing glint.
“Nice hat.” Foolish says. “I like how it peaks so… unnaturally. Very authentic.”
He stops at the edge of the desk and leans over to peer at Juan. He's close enough that Juan catches the faint scent of sun-warmed sand and dry smoke. His gaze is rapt, almost disconcerting. The back of Juan’s neck burns under the scrutiny. It feels like Foolish can see straight through the knit fabric. Juan's stomach clenches.
“Foolish, don't you have better things to do? Like- building giant lizards or something else equally useless?”
“I'm just checking up on my favorite neighbor.” Foolish's eyes crinkle with delight. “I heard from Tina that there was a 'work accident' earlier.”
Behind Juan, something gives a sharp, involuntary thump against his chair. Foolish’s eyes dart towards the sound. Juan swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat and briefly scrunches his face, slamming his fist next to the tower of paperwork on his right to shift Foolish’s attention.
He glares. But then he sees it– Foolish reaching into his inventory, fingers curling around the metallic gleam of a camera. Juan is already moving before the thought fully forms, half-hauling himself over the desk to swat the camera out of Foolish’s hand before he gets a chance to point it at him. He overcommits, stupidly loses his balance, his weight sends him tumbling forward, and–
It's exactly what Foolish was waiting for. Juan realizes a heartbeat too late and is unable to stop it– Foolish’s hand shoots out, snags the soft weave of the beanie in his palm, and plucks it free in one smooth motion.
The world narrows to the sudden rush of cool air against his ears as they spring out.
For a heartbeat, the room narrows to the sound of Foolish's inhale, the way his eyes widens then softens into something reverent. He drinks in the sight like it's his first sip of water after the dessert and it's a high-pitched, grating cackle that escapes when he exhales.
Juan’s ears– long, pointedly smoothed with fur and unmistakably cat-like, flatten to his temples in humiliation and his face burns with the heat of his embarrassment. The sheerness of it makes him forget about his other furry appendage, so when he lunges, his tail lashes hard behind him and sends the Rubik's Cube on the edge of his desk flying across the room with a deafening clatter.
“Oh my, fuck–” Foolish breathes, laughing harder. Tears are already gathering at the corners of his eyes.
“¡Hijueputa!” Spits Juan, lunging a second time. Foolish dances out of reach with practiced ease. “Foolish, I will have you fucking demoted and- and banned from this mansion! Do you hear me? I will go to Vegetta to make sure of it, pendejo!”
“Cálmate, gatito.” Foolish murmurs, drawing the nickname out slow and warm, almost fond. It wraps around Juan like a touch. The beanie dangles in front of Juan like a mouse toy. “Vegetta is not going to take your catboy self seriously. No one will– when you get this cute when you're pissed.” He muses.
Juan's top lip folds over his teeth, voice tapering into a low, feline-like growl. He glowers. “Foolish.” His tail thumps loudly behind him, the fur bristles at the end as it curls in agitation.
Foolish doesn't take the warning for what it is; He simply stares. His gaze flicks down and drags back up- steady, deliberate, and thoughtful – and then he quietly closes the little distance between them with a few strides. “Wait, your tantrums are actually adorable like this.” His hands flex by his sides like he's fighting the urge to reach out. His voice is lower when he speaks, the teasing tone in his voice replaced with something heavy.
“Makes me want to pet you. See if you’ll let me. See if you’ll purr.”
Juan has to swallow around nothing less he chokes. Heat creeps up from his face and rushes to the tips of his stupid ears that involuntarily lower a fraction in response. Invitingly. Like the worst fucking betrayal.
“Get out, Foolish,” Juan says. It lacks the usual bite, overturned with embarrassment and something else he refuses to name. He ignores it- like how he has been doing the past few weeks in the routine back and forth with Foolish. But it feels obvious. Juan couldn't help but think this problem undoes all the work he has done to keep it not obvious.
Foolish eyes lit with triumph, he finally lowers the beanie to give to Juan. Juan raises his hand to collect it but Foolish pats it in a bundle on top of his head, his thumb brushing deliberately against the base of one of Juan’s ears. The contact is brief, feather-light, doesn't last longer than a millisecond– but the effect is immense, embarrassingly so. A full-body shudder wracks through his frame, his eyes snap shut in sudden bliss. Juan's body tilts into the touch like he’s starving. A heavy hum rumbles in his throat, loud in the silence.
And then Foolish is retracting his hand. Juan hears the heavy steps he takes while backing away and opens his eyes, then flushes. With the improved sight, he can see Foolish’s blown pupils. Juan watches the way his Adam’s apple moves when he swallows, rubbing the back of his neck. His expression isn't apologetic, elated, or even mocking as Juan expects it to be. Actually, Juan finds it difficult to read..
Foolish reaches the doorway. He coughs.“Well, uh. Later– dude.” He says, voice rough and unlike him. The door shuts with a click.
Juan stays in place, heart hammering in his throat as he tries to make sense of what just happened.