Chapter Text
Ilya is maybe, probably, almost definitely going to lose it. Not kill him, Shane thinks, but he’s going to have big feelings for sure. Because at this exact moment, Shane is stretched out on their couch, his computer on his lap and a real-live, breathing cat snuggled up and snoozing against his hip. The image should be sweet, domestic, heartwarming even. There’s just one problem.
They don’t have a cat. Or, up until 6 hours ago, they didn’t have a cat.
Even as he keeps reading and researching and shopping, he can’t help but fidget, filled with a buzzing anxious energy. He fiddles with his eyebrow, the corner of his eyelashes, and then stops to rub aggressively at his eyes in earnest. They are itchy and slightly swollen, a little watery, but he doesn’t care about that. He has priorities. He has to get as much as possible done before Ilya returns and questions every single decision Shane has made since waking up today. Which he definitely will, because Shane has been making… lots of decisions today. Far more than his usual.
The morning had started out blessedly uneventful. A little lonely, but simple. Expected. Routine, even. Ilya had flown out yesterday afternoon to spend the evening and a night in Boston visiting Svetlana for her birthday, and would be back again later tonight. Shane had asked if he’d wanted company, but Ilya had insisted they could manage a single night apart, and that it would be good for him to see Sveta and hang out just the two of them again. So Shane had spent the evening watching ESPN on the couch with Anya, and then sitting in bed reading a hockey book with Anya, before falling asleep shortly after receiving some very messy drunk texts from Ilya confirming that they’d made it home from the club, and that Ilya really, really wished Shane were there so he could do some things to him in Sveta’s guest bedroom. He’d grinned and texted back, and finally felt relaxed enough to slip off his glasses, shut off the lamp, and shut his eyes.
When his alarm had gone off that morning, he’d shot off a good morning text, knowing Ilya wouldn’t be up for a few hours, and continued going through the steps of his routine. A glass of water, let Anya out to pee, then a quick yoga & stretching session to shake off the sleep. Blend a protein shake, feed Anya, drink the shake while scrolling sports news articles mindlessly. Change into running clothes, put in his running earbuds, give Anya a forehead kiss goodbye (because Ilya was not there to do it), and brave the Ottawa December air for several miles. That was when everything had stopped being normal, because three-quarters of the way through his run, he’d spotted a cat in the park. He watched as he approached, saw it walking openly across the field near the playground, waddling almost in its gait. He saw some kids yell at the cat and throw a snowball, the frozen lump hurtling through the air and landing only a few feet away from the animal. It trotted quickly away and dove for the nearest bush.
“What the fuck?” Shane ripped his headphones out, not caring enough to try not to swear in front of these teenagers. He slowed to a stop, head swiveling between the cat and the kids. “The hell is your problem? Who raised you?”
The kids stood there, looking back and forth between each other and Shane Hollander, hometown-hero-turned-animal-rights-activist. Shane, for his part, stood there panting and red-faced from his run, and utterly indignant on behalf of this cat.
One of them cleared his throat, seemingly selected by the group as their spokesperson. “We, uh. We didn’t mean anything by it. We didn’t wanna hurt it, y’know, just like. Wanted to see it run.”
“Yeah, dude, we wouldn’t hurt an animal!” another one piped up.
Unbelievable, Shane thought.
“Not good enough. You don’t - you don’t fucking do that, okay? We don’t throw things at living beings. Don’t do that.”
The boys had enough sense to look sheepish. There were mumbles of agreement and apology, and one of them gave a quiet “Sorry, Mr. Hollander,” which left Shane feeling oddly like his mother in that moment.
He shook his head and turned to look back at where the cat was watching all of this unfold from halfway under a bush. Slowly, he took a few steps closer, bending at the knees to lower himself and ducking his head a little. Despite being 5’10”, he wanted to appear less imposing to the creature currently regarding him from the ground with its- oh. With its one yellow eye. It only had one eye. And that eye was open wide, focused on Shane, but with less fear than Shane thought was good for the cat’s own self-preservation.
The cat was… very cute. Shane could admit that. It was mostly black, but its legs and stomach were largely white. Cow-like splotches wrapped its legs, and its round cheeks were white with a stripe running up between its eyebrows and a triangle of black capping its chin. Its nose was black, the skin just above it slightly pink, and its coat was thicker but short. It seemed to be puffed up slightly in the cold.
“Hey, there, buddy.” He kept his voice quiet and even, extending a curled hand slightly towards the animal and crouching down a few feet away. The cat was hunkered slightly under the branches, up to its elbows in the snow, and it sniffed the air in Shane’s direction curiously. There were small clumps of snow sticking to its legs, caught in its black-and-white fur. It wasn’t wearing a collar, and it had clearly been outside for a while. A stray, then, probably, Shane figured. He stayed crouched, his body bent in on itself to try and preserve some of the heat rapidly leaving him now that he wasn’t actively running anymore. He suppressed a violent shiver and watched his breath cloud in front of his face. Shit, if he was cold, how cold must this cat be?
Shane dropped his hand, forearm resting on his knee, and swore under his breath. If he had his car with him, he’d take it to a vet, or a shelter, or something. As it was, both he and the cat were damp from the snow, and he had no car. He chewed at his lip and extended his hand again, rubbing his fingertips together and clicking his tongue a little. The cat looked at his hand, then at his face, then seemed to reach a decision before making a tentative step in his direction. It left a back foot lodged beneath the bush as it stretched out long, extending its neck to sniff at Shane’s fingers.
“That’s it, hey. It’s okay.” Shane’s heart was racing.
Then, the cat froze and looked right into Shane’s soul for a prolonged moment. It didn’t move its head, just left its nose by his hand and looked up at him, analyzing. Then it surged forward, slamming its forehead into Shane’s outstretched hand with such strength it pushed his arm back. It rubbed its whole side along him, stumbled with the force of the movement, recovered, and swivelled to do it again.
Shane blinked rapidly, his heart in his throat. Holy shit. He felt overwhelmed by the display of trust, so willingly given. He moved quickly to scoop up the cat, who squirmed a little but then surrendered, going floppy in his arms. Holding a cat wasn’t something he’d ever done before, but he figured it couldn’t be that different than holding Hayden’s kids, right? So he supported the butt and the limbs, cradled the stray to his chest, and began powerwalking squarely in the direction of their neighborhood. He didn’t have a set plan yet, but he could at least get the cat out of the cold.
As they made it the remaining few blocks to the house, Shane’s mind was reeling. His nose started itching, and he abruptly remembered that he was allergic to cats. Fuck. Okay. He’d have to deal with that, too.
He tried to work out his plan mentally as he walked, staving off shivers and sneezes the whole way. He wasn’t dressed to go to the shelter right now, so he’d have to at least bring the cat inside for a bit so he could change. And he should probably shower so he wasn’t sweaty from his run. Maybe he’d keep the cat in the bathroom so it could enjoy the hot steamy air and thaw out some, too. Plus, that might help Anya not to freak out about having a new friend in the house, only to take them away from her just as quickly.
Okay. He could do this. He wasn’t keeping the cat, but the cat needed to come inside for a little while, and he wanted to make sure it was warm and comfortable for a bit before he took it somewhere. He sniffed aggressively, and nodded to himself. This would work.
Only then, they’d gotten in the house, and the cat had made itself so at home in his bathroom when Shane showered that it had been sprawled out, body long and loose on the heated tile floor as it slow-blinked - winked? - up at him. The snow had evaporated from its fur, and when Shane had ducked a head out of the stall to check on the cat mid-shower, it had been studiously licking itself, the two of them taking a bath in the steamy air. He’d grinned to himself and leaned back in to finish washing himself.
Afterwards, he’d dried off and done his skincare. Sure, he could skip this or rush it, but the cat just looked so comfortable; Shane didn’t think it would mind waiting a little more for him to finish his routine. Once he had finished, he’d sunk to the bathroom floor near the stray, towel wrapped around his waist and draped over his crossed legs.
“What are we gonna do with you, huh?” he asked the cat as it stood, arched into a stretch, and came to slam its head against Shane’s knee. Shane chuckled. The affection was so aggressive, it was almost as though the creature had no control over the strength of its movements. He raised a hand to scratch at its head, and the cat rubbed into the touch, shutting its eye contentedly. Then, it stepped its paws onto Shane’s thighs and walked awkwardly into his lap. Shane wondered exactly how it managed to put such an obscene amount of weight into just one paw (seriously, even Anya never felt this heavy) as it balanced for a moment before flopping down heavily, looking up at him with its head craned back and eye open wide. Shane’s breath caught.
Okay. Fuck. He might have a problem.
Because there was no way he wasn’t going to keep this cat anymore.
The two of them sat on the bathroom floor like that for a while, the cat beginning to vibrate with happy purrs and Shane’s heart threatening to burst at the seams. He thought then that if anyone had come to claim him, for he’d started thinking of the cat as a him, that Shane would fight them. Anyone. Everyone. An angry mob could show up at his door and demand he surrender the cat and he wouldn’t do it. This small, sweet animal had given Shane complete trust without him having done anything to earn it, and Shane couldn’t let that be for nothing.
The next few hours had been a rapid flurry of activity. At some point, Ilya had woken up in Boston and texted a few times, keeping Shane updated about his progress throughout the day. Going to brunch with Svetlana, then packing up and later leaving for the airport. Shane had been distracted, obviously, but had made sure to reply and to tell Ilya just how happy he would be to see him later.
He had not mentioned their new cat.
Instead, he had googled ways to keep a cat calm in the car without a carrier, mapped a route to the nearest vet and pet store, chewed his lip about his options, and eventually opted to wrap him in a smaller throw blanket. The cat had wriggled at first, tiny high-pitched meows of protest prompting a slew of, “I know, I know, sorry, I’m sorry buddy, yeah, this is scary, but it’ll be warm, okay? Trust me, okay? I got you now,” from Shane. The cat had eventually settled, and Shane had left the bedroom with him swaddled in his arms.
Anya had been waiting outside the door immediately, sniffing with quiet, shy wags of her tail. Shane instinctively turned his shoulders, sheltering the cat from Anya’s advances. But then she surprised him with a rare moment of self-control as she did not throw her full weight at the two of them in boundless curiosity and joy, as was her norm. She seemed to sense the delicate nature of the situation, and kept her head down while she looked up at him, eyes round and pleading for him to please, please let me see the new friend.
He caved and swiveled back around. Anya’s face lifted to smell at the cat more, and the bundle in Shane’s arms adjusted as the smaller face sticking out of the blankets stretched out and surveyed her. Surprisingly, the cat didn’t seem that scared, just curious. He let the two of them look at each other for a moment, then crouched down. He extended his free hand, holding Anya at arm’s length but bringing them to each other’s level for a closer meeting. They were both eager to know the new animal in their lives, Anya vibrating with excitement under his hand, but Shane stood again.
“Sorry, guys. We gotta get this little guy to the V-E-T and make sure he’s all healthy before we have any playdates.” He headed for the door. “Come on, bud.”
He had settled the disgruntled bundle in the passenger seat, swore about safety, then decided to hold the cat in his lap for the few-minute drive to the vet. He’d rushed in, a bluster of cold air in his wake, and walked directly to the startled vet tech at the front door to announce that he needed an appointment right now, sorry, could a vet please see him right now because he’d found this cat and it really needed to be checked, if that could please happen quickly, please. He’d thanked her profusely when she clicked around and then put him in a room to wait for the vet, then sat and waited anxiously. When the vet came in, she’d laughed kindly at the way that Shane had half-panicked before struggling to unwrap the cat and deposit him on the table. He’d relayed the story of their morning to her as she nodded and smiled and assessed the cat, breezy and focused with nimble fingers.
Then, she’d suggested that the cat stay at the vet for a few hours so they could run bloodwork and some other tests, since Shane obviously didn’t have any records for him. He’d chewed his lip and asked if he would be okay alone; she had laughed again and reassured him, and so Shane had awkwardly agreed and left his contact info and agreed to pick him up in four hours.
He had then driven directly to the nearest pet store, sat in the parking lot making a list for twenty minutes, spent at least another twenty walking around and looking at all the options and feeling unsure what the new cat - his new cat - would want, before deciding “fuck it,” and loading up two overly full carts of supplies. The cashier’s eyes had widened slightly as he rolled up, but they had mercifully decided not to comment on it. One by one, he transferred the items onto the counter, then back into the waiting carts. Two large, covered litter boxes. He’d hoped they’d have one of the automatic cleaning ones, but apparently he’d have to order one online. An organic litter with some supposed features he didn’t really understand, but that seemed promising. Dry food, wet food, some treats that he’d had to make stabbing guesses at. He’d added a food and what seemed to be a powder to go on top that promised to help with cat allergens, because hey - that couldn’t hurt. (This last part he thought while scratching at his eyes.)
Handfuls of toys of various colors, shapes, and sizes were dumped into the cart; feathered and tasseled, crinkling and with bells, a laser and a few wands. Some weird electronic toy that appeared to spin around for the cat to chase that Shane made a mental note to get batteries for. A travel crate, and a mat for inside the crate, because he didn’t want to pick him up from the vet with just a cold plastic box; that felt somehow unfair to Shane. A weird plug-in promising to help him adjust to the new house, some calming treats, and an anti-scratch spray that Shane planned to apply to their more expensive furniture. Brushes and shampoo, wipes and sprays for cleaning up messes, deodorizer for the litter, and mats for outside the boxes. Dishes for food and water, and a little placemat so that he could have a designated spot next to Anya’s in the kitchen. He’d found a harness and leash that looked to be about the right size, thinking maybe he’d like to go outside with Anya sometimes. He spent a good ten minutes poring over the selection of collars, worrying his lip between his teeth and pulling out one after the other and inspecting them, before choosing one he felt good about. He’d picked out a cozy-looking hut for him to sleep in, a fluffy round bed, a small scratcher for the floor, and what was probably an unreasonably large cat tree, but what the hell, he could afford it. The box for the cat tree was teetering out of the second cart, unseemly and massive, and the cashier grinned as they leaned over the counter to scan it without asking Shane to move it.
The total clearly shocked them, as they sheepishly read out the number with an awe-struck expression. Shane didn’t even bat an eye. He just nodded, paid, thanked them quickly, and then made his awkward way back to his car to shuffle things around and load his haul as best he could.
By the time he drove home and managed to unpack everything from his car, it had been around an hour and a half. He ran his hands through his hair and blew out a breath, watching Anya weave between the bags and boxes with curious sniffs and her tail wagging excitedly. She could tell that something was up, and clearly wanted to be involved.
“Okay, girl. We’ve just got a couple hours to get this place ready; you think we can do it?”
She just wiggled and blinked up at him in response.
He gave a small laugh and scratched between her ears, then began working through each bag to unpack them. There was more than enough room in the cupboard with Anya’s food for the other edible items he’d bought. She got overly excited when he opened that door, and he had to give her a treat to calm her down as he washed the bowls and placemat and set them in a row with Anya’s. All of the grooming and cleaning items went in the next cupboard over. He tore the tags off the beds and the mat for the carrier and threw them in a quick wash cycle while he removed tags from the toys and deposited them into the woven basket full of Anya’s toys sitting in the living room, opting to leave out a small tomato toy since Anya had a few strewn across the floor. He used the scratch repellent on their living room furniture, plugged in the calming diffuser, and went upstairs to spray along the edge of their bed, too. Then, he debated the best placements for the litter boxes he’d been able to buy, and opted to set one up in the mudroom by the back door, and one in the laundry room. Once those were ready, he cracked open a ginger ale and got to work putting the cat tree together. The package said it was a two-person build, but he had a sneaking suspicion that if he waited for Ilya, it would take the two of them twice as long as it would take Shane alone, what with Ilya’s antics and blatant, borderline felonious disregard for instruction pamphlets. He struggled at a few parts, but did manage it finally. He took a step back and admired his work.
The tree had lots of features: toys dangling down, panels to scratch and perches at different levels, and it was taller than Shane, even. He turned in place, looking around the room and realizing he hadn’t planned where to put it. He looked at Anya as if she might have some input, but she just looked back at him from her bed, eyes round and unimpressed, as if to say, hey, don’t ask me, this was your idea!
“Alright, fine, fine!” He threw up his hands in surrender. After another moment of consideration, he shifted and pulled it into the corner, along a stretch of wall next to the bookshelves. He fiddled with the angle of it for a minute, unsure exactly which way it was meant to go, until he shrugged and thought, “Good enough.”
He turned, picked up all the trash to throw out, then checked the time. Shit. He only had about 40 minutes until he had to go get the cat from the vet. Shane rushed into the laundry room and threw the items into the dryer on high, then went into the kitchen and pulled out his laptop, sitting at the counter. He set a timer on his phone so he wouldn’t leave too late, and started immediately shopping for the things he hadn’t been able to find in his one stop.
First, he knew he’d seen stuff about litter boxes that were fully automated, and that seemed significantly preferable to having to manually deal with… all that… regularly. A quick search had him looking at the models of something called a “Litter Robot” and comparing updates and features. He ended up panicking and buying the newest one, plus all the accessories, just to be safe. He also ordered a special litter trash can, and made sure they were overnighted to deliver tomorrow. He then started looking into remedies for cat allergies, reading articles and adding vitamins, antihistamines, and supplements to his cart. Shane figured he may as well overnight those, too, as he scratched at his nose.
The dryer rang out, and he got up to grab the items, fluffing the bed and tossing it near the end of the couch, then wiggling the soft mat into the interior of the crate. When he checked, he had a few minutes left on his timer before he was supposed to leave, but he just turned it off and decided to head to the vet anyway. It couldn’t hurt to be early, after all.
That was how he found himself sitting in the waiting room of the vet, knee bouncing as he turned his phone over in his hands. He was doing his best to ignore the little girl a few seats down who was whispering about him loudly from behind her hand, excited to point out The Shane Hollander to her mother. For his part, Shane was just hoping that the carrier he’d purchased and had just given to the vet would be okay for the new cat. He responded to a text from Ilya that his flight was boarding, saying he couldn’t wait to see him when he got home, and telling Ilya that he should have just let Shane drive him to the airport so he could pick him up. Ilya disagreed, of course, because this way he would get to drive the sports car he didn’t have much chance to drive, and had driven to and paid to park at the airport. It was a frivolous expense, but then, Shane couldn’t really say anything as he’d just dropped a regular person’s paycheck in a single day on a cat he met all of five hours ago. He finished the exchange with an “I love you, see you soon” and clicked his phone off, putting it into his pocket just as a vet tech emerged from the back with Shane’s new cat held in the new carrier.
He stood immediately. “How was he? Did he do okay? Is, uh, is everything alright with him?”
The tech smiled graciously. “Your little guy did great. No real concerns. We gave him all his shots, and his bloodwork all looked good. You’ll wanna get him back here in a few months for things like a dental cleaning, but honestly, he’s looking pretty good, especially considering he was outside. No bugs or anything on him, so that’s good! Probably a good thing you found him when it's so cold out. We went ahead and trimmed his nails and cleaned his ears. I know we talked about that upcharge-“ Shane nodded, not really remembering but not caring, either. That was fine. “And I would suggest just keeping an eye on maintaining his diet.”
Shane nodded as the cat was handed over. “Oh, yeah for sure. Does he need extra or anything? Since he’s been outside?”
The tech gave a small chuckle at this. “No, sir, um… actually, this little guy is… not so little. He’s a bit overweight, actually. He does still seem healthy, but it would be good for him to lose a pound or two so that it doesn’t become anything worse or more concerning for his health.”
“Oh.” Shane deflated a little. He’d secretly been looking forward to buttering the sweet cat up with little treats. “Okay. Makes sense. I can do that.”
The tech smiled and nodded. “Great. Well, everything else is in these papers, which are yours to keep for his records. For now, he’s just in our system as S. Hollander, so when you’ve got a name picked out, just give us a call, and we can update that, m’kay?”
Shane took the bundle of papers that was proffered and nodded. “For sure. I appreciate it.”
The two exchanged a couple more niceties, and then Shane and his new companion were back in the car, this time with the crate buckled into the passenger seat. He didn’t know exactly how much the seatbelt helped, but the sight made him feel better. The cat didn’t even meow at him, just stared with a large, unblinking eye at him as he settled the two of them into the car and pulled onto the road.
When they got home, Shane carried him high against his chest to protect the crate from being jostled by Anya’s excited greeting. Sure enough, her paws thunked against his thighs and hips moments after he made it through the door.
“Hey, easy, easy! Calm down, girl, it’s just me.” Anya lowered herself and walked behind him to look at the door expectantly, then back at Shane with a confused tilt of her head. “I know. He’ll be home tonight, okay? You wanna see Papa?” Her head tilted interestedly in the other direction. “Yeah, that’s right, Papa’s home soon.” She began wiggling in anticipation, and he gave her several pets and forehead scratches.
With a sigh, he walked into the living room with the cat. He picked up the collar off the coffee table, set the carrier down on the couch, and took a deep breath before slowly opening the door.
“Hey, buddy…” he crooned softly, coaxing the cat out gently. Anya, to her credit, was watching with interest from her bed, but not coming closer.
The cat lifted its head towards the door and took a few hesitant steps to the opening, and then out of the crate. His head swiveled in every direction, eye wide and taking in his surroundings. Shane extended his hand, fingers wrapped lightly around the collar, towards the cat. It poked its small black nose out at him and sniffed, rubbing once again against the back of Shane’s knuckles. Shane chuckled and then scooped the cat closer slightly so he could quickly put the collar on in one fluid movement, and then he removed his hands. The cat seemed confused, but readjusted. When it turned its head back to him, Shane could only grin.
He had bought this little tuxedo cat a deep green collar with a small bow tie in the front.
“There. Now you look all distinguished.” Shane quipped and scratched the animal’s flat little head. The cat seemed unconvinced, but looked dapper nonetheless.
He spent a few more moments sitting on the couch and looking around before hopping down and beginning to sniff at the furniture and explore.
“Stay, Anya,” Shane spoke up in advance, seeing her ears perk up and her tail start softly thumping at the floor. The cat made his way around the perimeter of the living room, investigating every new item along the way. When he was only a few feet away from Anya, he paused, his head moving around as he sniffed the air around her. Anya was practically fidgeting now, her weight rocking back and forth with anticipation. Shane came to sit on the floor a few feet away from the two of them, wanting to be near enough to intervene if needed but not so close that his supervision meant they wouldn’t say hello.
Slowly, the cat made a hesitant approach, eye locked onto Anya the whole time. Her tail wagged faster as he came closer, and she allowed him to sniff at her front paws before she ducked her nose to smell him back. The cat jumped slightly, but didn’t run away, and the two proceeded to smell each other back-and-forth, the cat circling Anya as she contorted her body in her bed to continue looking at him. Eventually, he gave her a long look and then shoved his forehead up against the bottom of her jaw, rubbing his face along hers.
Shane laughed at the confused look that Anya gave in response, but privately his heart swelled at how quickly the two had warmed up to each other, how easily the newest member of the family seemed to be fitting in.
“See? It’s not so bad here.” He reached out to pet Anya, giving her an “Okay,” to release her from the earlier “Stay,” and then petting the new cat as he waddled closer to Shane once again.
With a small smile, Shane stood and walked to the kitchen. He retrieved his half-finished can of ginger ale and his laptop, and made his way back to spread out on the couch to continue his research into this brand-new world of cat parenting. He grinned privately when he heard the cat scratching in one of the litter boxes, happy that he was settling in. He came and found Shane afterwards, his stocky gait charming Shane all over again as he approached the couch, regarded the height for a moment, rocked his body a few times, and hopped up beside Shane. He put his paws on Shane’s hip, stretching his head for pets and continuing with his aggressive head butts into any hand that neared him. Shane indulged him for a short while, until the cat seemed satisfied and turned around, adjusting himself, then dropped down with a huff, curled into a circle and pressed against the side of his leg.
This was how Shane found himself realizing just how much trouble he would be in with Ilya, and reflecting on the choices he’d made today. Somehow, though, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, as the cat purred under his hand and drifted off to sleep. His own eyes felt heavy, a bit watery, but heavy, and without meaning to, he gently slipped into sleep on the couch, his head fallen sideways, laptop open on his legs and his hand still resting on the cat’s soft fur.