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Lando can feel something fundamentally wrong as soon as he enters his flat.
For starters, his lovely and friendly kitten is nowhere to be found. His black cat, fondly dubbed Lankitty, always comes running when Lando comes home after a long day at work. The adorable furball probably has ulterior motives—being extra cuddly usually means he’ll get a treat. Chicken, of course, not fish.
“Where is my child?” Lando wonders aloud, putting his hands on his hips. He jingles his car keys for good measure. “Pspspsps.”
Nothing. Huh.
He searches every nook and cranny of his flat, peeking behind curtains and under the couch. Nothing. Lando can feel himself grow increasingly agitated. He doesn’t remember leaving any doors or windows open in his hurry to leave this morning.
“Lankitty!” he calls out, opening every cabinet and drawer in the kitchen. None of the shadows suddenly grow eyes. “Where are you, baby?”
And then he hears it.
A muffled noise coming from his bedroom, which he conveniently forgot to bother checking earlier.
“Mrrrrow.”
Lando throws his bedroom door open, ready to swoop in and pluck his cat up into a hug. Instead, his jaw drops straight to the floor at what he sees.
“Oh, Jesus!” he squeaks, gaping at his cat, who has his back arched and his furry butt plastered to his balcony door. On the other side of the door- “Oh, there is no way.”
There’s another tomcat trying to lick his precious kitty’s butt through the sliding door.
Lando feels faint.
His baby, the cat he birthed himself, has a boyfriend. Lankitty has a boyfriend, and they’re engaging in lewd acts right before Lando’s eyes.
He’s moving before he can fully process what he has to bear witness to, snatching Lankitty up and bundling him into his arms. His heart breaks cleanly in two when Lankitty mewls a protest, wriggling in his grasp like he’s trying to break free.
“You,” Lando says, narrowing his eyes at the orange cat licking his paw unapologetically on his balcony. “Stay away from my baby.”
He can practically hear Lankitty whine, “But, Mum, I love him!” in the way his fluffy ears droop as he shuts the curtains firmly, blocking the other cat from view.
“Lankitty, my baby, my love,” Lando begins, petting his cat, “Mama has so much to teach you about boys. Rule number one: stay the hell away from them.”
The doorbell rings.
It’s comical, the way both Lando and his cat perk up. Maybe the theory that pets begin to resemble their humans is true, after all.
“Who…?”
Lando cracks his front door open, hoping the person on the other side isn’t a murderer. He’s just so small and vulnerable all the time, sweet and doelike, that it would be a pity if he’s suddenly stabbed. Not to mention, he’d be leaving his precious baby alone.
“Uh, hi,” the stranger at his door says, while Lando blinks at him. He’s cute, Lando supposes, in a guy-next-door kind of way, but, oh, the way his shirt stretches across his chest is- “I’m just wondering if you’ve seen my cat.”
Oh.
Oh.
Lando frowns at him. “You.”
The guy points at himself, tilting his head. “Me?”
“Your cat? Orange? With a stupid brown swoopy mark on his forehead?” Lando rattles off. “Kinda looks like you? Yeah, I found him on my balcony trying to lick my cat’s butt through a glass door.”
In his arms, Lankitty meows, probably excited at the mention of his stupid boyfriend.
The stranger simultaneously looks offended and embarrassed, and Lando takes great pleasure in watching his cheeks redden. “That… yeah, I guess that’s my cat. I accidentally left my door open this morning, and he must’ve liberated himself.” He lifts a hand to sheepishly scratch at the back of his neck and rambles, “I’m not sure what got into him. He’s usually asleep or trying to steal my dinner. He likes fish too much, I reckon. I’m convinced he hates everyone, so it’s a surprise he willingly left his cat tree to find your cat.”
Ducking his head, Lando loudly whispers, “You hear that, baby? Your boyfriend is a slob, who likes fish. Undeserving of a kitty as sweet and clean as you.”
“Hey! My cat’s just fine,” his neighbor protests. “If anything, your slutty cat seduced mine! I mean-”
Oh, hell no. He did not just say that.
Lando sees red. His cheeks burn as he hisses, “My Lankitty is innocent! He has never felt the touch of another man, and your accusations are hurting his feelings!”
Lankitty meows happily.
“You named your cat Lankitty? What kind of name is that?”
“Oh, and I’m sure you named yours something smart,” Lando says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Like Bruce. Or Oscar.”
“What’s wrong with Oscar?” the guy asks, looking strangely offended. Lando squints at him, suspicious.
“Don’t tell me your name is Oscar.”
The guy opens his mouth and then closes it with a snap. He doesn’t need to say anything when the way his blush travels to the tips of his ears is indication enough.
“Oh my God, it totally is!” Lando crows gleefully. “And let me guess, you named your dumb cat Oscat.”
Again, silence. That’s enough validation.
“Stop insulting my cat.” The guy, Oscar, scrubs a hand down his face. “Look, I’ll just grab him and be out of your way.”
Lando should not let him anywhere inside his apartment, after he called Lankitty a slut, but he’s tired after the emotional evening he’s had so far. The last thing he wants is to deal with this Oscat character when there’s a chance he might just sweep Lankitty into his paws and make off with him. So Lando wordlessly steps aside, letting his worst enemy into his sanctuary.
He keeps Lankitty in his arms as Oscar picks his way through his living room and into his bedroom. Mentally, Lando thanks his own cleanliness when there aren’t any toys strewn about.
Cat toys. Not. Not his toys.
“Nice place,” Oscar murmurs, pointedly glancing at the colorful decorative pillows on the queen-sized bed, and Lando glares at him.
If he’s a little aggressive while drawing his curtains and gesturing to the cat sitting patiently on his balcony, he deserves it.
“Thank fuck,” Oscar exhales, sliding the door open. His cat immediately leaps at his face, knocking him flat onto Lando’s carpet.
“What!” Lando cries, clutching his cute, precious cat tighter. “Lankitty, this- this feral creature is who you chose?”
“Meow.” Yes, Mum, I love him.
“Oscat’s perfectly well-behaved,” Oscar tries rebutting, but his protest falls on deaf ears as he attempts to catch his breath with a cat loafing on his chest and new claw marks decorating his face.
Feeling the tiniest smidgen of pity, Lando puts Lankitty down, mentally blocking out the fact that he basically just pimped out his cat to lure Oscat away from his poor human. Predictably, Oscat darts over, pressing up bodily against Lankitty’s side. The worst part is that Lankitty loves the attention, winding around Oscat and purring like a fucking engine.
Tearing up a little, Lando turns back to Oscar, who is frozen in place as he watches the scene play out in front of them, and offers him a hand. He’s not a total bitch, after all, even if this is all Oscar’s fault for being so careless.
He jumps when Oscar takes his hand and pulls himself upright. It happens so suddenly that Lando gasps at their sudden proximity. He’s suddenly too aware of the distance between his back and the wall, which is none, and the distance between his chest and Oscar’s, which is almost none.
Lando has to admit that Oscar smells nice, like chocolate deodorant, oddly enough, and an underlying musk. From this close, he can track the way Oscar’s Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows and the way the muscle in his jaw tightens.
“Um-”
Against his will, Lando blushes.
He ducks away and grabs his cat in one smooth motion, ignoring the way Lankitty wails when he’s forcibly separated from his- his boyfriend. If there’s one thing he hates, it’s upsetting his cat.
“Take your cat and leave,” Lando demands. “I don’t want to see you or your cat in my flat.”
Oscar shoots him a droll look as he bends down to pick his cat up, tucking him under one arm. Is that attractive? Lando has no idea anymore. “Believe me, I’m no happier about this situation. Good night.”
As Oscar walks off, his cat gives him the wettest expression and reaches for Lankitty, who struggles in Lando’s arms and stretches a paw out in reciprocation. Lando must really be exhausted because he can’t help but find their antics kind of… adorable.
He also can’t help but find the flex of Oscar’s arm as he effortlessly holds his squirming cat tight somewhat attractive too.
Lando locks the door and exhales a gusty sigh of relief.
“No more boy troubles,” he jokes, but the only acknowledgement he receives is a dismissive flick of an ear. “Aww, don’t be like that, baby. I’m doing it for your- for our own good.”
His flat shall remain their safe space, without any irritating boys with swoopy hair to bother them and disturb their peace.
🐈⬛🐈
Unfortunately for Lando, his peace gets disturbed. Multiple times.
“I’m going to start taking you with me to work,” he threatens as he pulls his curtains shut, hoping Oscat might go back on his own. Clearly, he has no trouble crossing balconies.
Moments later, the doorbell rings.
Lando has no choice but to let Oscar in, but he does glare daggers at that ridiculously broad back of his the entire time. If looks could kill, Oscar wouldn’t be dead, per se. He’d just be… lightly maimed. Lando resolutely does not think about how Oscar’s back would look with scratch marks decorating it.
As Oscar’s footsteps fade down the hall, Lando can’t help but hear him mutter, “At least you chose a cute one, you stubborn little shit. Good job, I think.”
Lando frowns. He’s too tired to unpack what that means.
🐈⬛🐈
The next day is the weekend, and he really hopes Oscar’s cat is too lazy to visit on a weekend.
He isn’t.
“Hey, is that your cat?” George asks, dangling a feather toy above Meorge’s head. He and Alex are over at Lando’s place with their kitties for their regularly scheduled cat playdate-slash-afternoon tea. It’s absurdly cute.
“Sounds like he’s in heat,” Alex quips. He just sounds so nonchalant about it as he feeds Nyalex another biscuit, while Lando chokes on his tea.
“Please don’t insinuate that my baby is in heat,” Lando whines, after he’s recovered from coughing up a lung. “But, ugh, let me tell you about the neighbor’s cat.”
George’s eyes gleam. “Oooh, does Lankitty have a boyfriend? That’s so sweet.”
“No! It’s not sweet! That cat is evil, I swear.”
“Evil for… wanting to be mates with your cat? Lando, you should take pointers and maybe find your own man,” Alex says, promptly succeeding in getting rid of Lando’s other lung. “Surely you’ve met your neighbor if this is becoming a regular thing. Is he hot?”
Lando scowls. “I get laid plenty, mind you.”
“Never insinuated otherwise.”
“Oscar is not hot.”
“Oh, his name is Oscar? How quaint,” George teases. He frowns at his cat, who has the feather trapped between his front paws. “Sounds like you think he’s hot.”
“I do not. Find him. Hot. He’s annoying, his cat is annoying-”
The doorbell rings.
Lando doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On one hand, he’s relieved at the distraction from this lung-destroying conversation, but on the other, the distraction might make things worse.
“Hello, distraction- I mean, Oscar,” he greets forlornly. “Cat’s on the balcony again.”
Oscar looks at him with something akin to concern in his expression. “You alright? I mean, not that I’m worried or anything. You just sound… less insane than usual.”
Lando just rubs his eyes and gestures to his living room. Which has George, Alex, and their cats in it. All four of them are staring at Lando and Oscar with a mix of surprise and amusement.
Oscar stops in his tracks. “Uh, I can come back later.”
“Just go get your cat.”
Four sets of eyes follow Oscar as he makes his way to Lando’s bedroom, while Lando primly takes a seat on his couch. He picks his cup of tea up again and takes a fortifying sip, closing his eyes as he sighs at its calming aroma and resolutely ignoring everyone else.
He can practically feel the questions burning into him.
Oscar returns with his cat tucked under his arm and Lankitty scampering after him. Lando almost feels bad about interrupting their date. And then he remembers that his Lankitty is being corrupted by his devil of a boyfriend.
Smiling warily, Oscar lifts a hand. “Uh, have a good afternoon, Lando, Lando’s friends. And, um, cats.”
All four sets of eyes swivel towards Lando as soon as the door clicks shut. Lankitty curls up in Lando’s lap, being cute as usual.
Alex is the first to break the silence. “Well, he seems to know his way around.” Your bedroom goes unspoken.
Lando has no more lungs to give. He just sighs. “The only thing of mine that he’s intimately acquainted with is the door.”
“You wish he was intimately acquainted with your back door-” George screams when Lando pelts him with Lankitty’s axolotl plush.
Wiggling his rump, Lankitty immediately leaps at the plushie, batting at it between his paws cutely. He rolls over, adorable and fluffy, and meows at his spectators. The other cats in the room flock to him immediately. Fuck, no wonder he has a boyfriend while Lando remains sad and single.
“You should give Oscar a chance,” George says. “The way he looked at you when you were pretending not to care that you just let him in your bedroom…”
“With mild irritation?”
“That poor boy is yearning for an idiot,” Alex whispers, looking up from where he’s taking a million photos of their cats rolling around on the carpet. Louder, he says, “Oscar looks at you like he wants to take you out on a date and then make you forget your name.”
Lando squeaks.
All three cats lunge at him, confusing him for prey.
🐈⬛🐈
Eventually, Lando comes around to letting his cat have a boyfriend.
It’s clear that Oscat makes Lankitty very happy, even with a glass door between them, and it’s not like they’re actually doing anything Lando wouldn’t do. Which is admittedly not a lot. But his point still stands! Lankitty remains a slut in spirit, as much as Lando is loath to admit how correct Oscar is, and Lando isn’t going to end up with a bunch of squirming, mewling kittens anytime soon.
But, oh, they would have the cutest kittens…
Lando lets Oscat into his bedroom. Once. And keeps a weather eye on him in case he tries anything with Lankitty.
His baby’s happiness comes first, and unfortunately, Lankitty looks extremely happy grooming Oscat between the ears and pressing his nose into Oscat’s shoulder. Oscat just accepts the affection, returning it by touching his nose to Lankitty’s cheek and sniffing him. And then they’re napping together on Lando’s bed, all curled up together and forming a heart.
It’s devastatingly sweet.
After checking to make sure nobody’s watching, Lando whips his phone out and snaps a discreet photo.
Like clockwork, he can sense exactly when Oscar is about to come ringing the doorbell and disturbing the cats. He’s running before Oscar has the chance to, opening the door and grabbing Oscar’s wrist to tug him inside.
“Wha-”
Nobody has ever accused Lando of being a sensible person.
He kisses Oscar to shut him up.
It works. Before he can freak out about it, Lando pulls away with a lewd pop that makes his cheeks heat up and reaches up to cover Oscar’s mouth, frantically gesturing for him to stay quiet. Oscar looks a bit dazed, like his brain has been scrambled and he’s desperately trying to get it back online.
Lando should be offended by how quickly he recovers, but Oscar is guiding his hand away, curling his fingers around his wrist, and backing him up against his own door.
His lips are on Lando’s before he can even think, moving slightly desperately like he’s wanted Lando all this time. The only thing Lando can do is moan softly and kiss him back.
Oscar drops his wrist to wrap both arms around his waist, pulling him closer, and Lando goes willingly, letting his hands roam along those delicious shoulders and biceps and that glorious back.
He could nearly sob at how much he’s missed being held like this and how well Oscar is filling that gaping hole.
Oscar can fill other gaping holes, and Lando would let him.
His lashes flutter when he feels Oscar’s mouth leave his, and he opens his eyes just to see red cheeks and a redder mouth.
Lando’s traitorous heart skips a beat.
Oscar lifts an eyebrow as a corner of his lips dares to tug upwards in a smug expression. He slants his gaze towards Lando’s bedroom pointedly, but Lando shakes his head and nods at the couch instead.
That insolent mouth twitches.
“Cats. On my bed. Shut up,” Lando mutters breathlessly, before he’s pulling Oscar onto the couch on top of him, and then they’re horizontal, and he isn’t quite thinking anymore.
🐈⬛🐈
Lando wakes up with a crick in his neck and a dull, pleasant ache in his lower back.
He’s on his couch.
He never sleeps on his couch, not when he has a perfectly comfortable bed to snuggle in. But he’s not totally uncomfortable, not when he has a weighted blanket wrapped around him, keeping him nice and warm in the drafty morning air permeating through the walls of the building.
He glances down.
Right. Lando doesn’t have a weighted blanket on his couch.
He does have an irritating neighbor with a cute smile and a tongue that is way too talented, though.
Lando might have to revise his opinion on Oscar after discovering just what he can do with his tongue. He hides his face at the memory and curls his toes into the upholstery. The arms wrapped around his waist squeeze when he sinks a hand into Oscar’s hair, absently playing with the swoop and scratching at his scalp.
A muffled groan is smeared into his skin, soft and warm.
“Gotta feed my cat,” is the first thing Oscar says, a man after Lando’s heart. “Your cat doesn’t like fish, right? I have some freeze-dried chicken heads in my flat.”
Lando falls the rest of the way.
🐈⬛🐈
For the record, Lando still thinks Oscar is irritating.
He’s irritating in the way he smiles and blushes when Lando scolds him for not supervising their cats and the way he can immediately take away any lingering irritation that Lando feels with a hug and a kiss. He’s also irritating when he refuses to wake up after spending the night in Lando… 's bed, curling up behind him and letting Lando siphon off his warmth.
He’s especially irritating when he brings the cats back from the vet and sheepishly hands Lando the ultrasound images.
“You should move in,” Lando declares, blushing at the casual way Oscar pulls him into his arms and kisses his temple. “I mean, really, you don’t even go back next door to sleep. And we’re going to be grandparents. To four kittens.”
Oscar makes a face. “That’s really weird to say when we’re twenty-five and twenty-six.”
“Hah! Tell that to the gray hairs I found the other day!”
On the carpet, Lankitty rolls over onto his back, and Oscat pounces, immediately making himself comfortable between all four of his mate’s limbs.
Well, cats do resemble their humans, after all.