itsladykit:

@cheapbourbon This time you actually did ask for it, even if I ended up skirting around the question. Again. ( @alicedragons didn’t, but I’m tagging them anyway.)

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Rus stared in disbelief. Fang had waltzed over to his shoes, looked Rus dead in the sockets, and started pissing on them. “you—!” Growling, Rus lunged for the cat, but Fang was already running off, growling low in his throat. Looking between the cat and the shoes, he snarled down the hall, “you have a perfectly good litter box! why would you—?” He then realized the futility of trying to reason with a cat and, sighing, stared at the ruined shoes.

He shut his sockets. He was so done with this. Ever since he’d moved in, the damn cat had been tormenting him. It knocked his things off of any flat surface he set them down. It scratched at the furniture, at the carpet, on Rus’ leg. The damn thing was a complete menace—and it wasn’t even cute! It was missing most of its left ear, and a good portion of its tail. And an eye. It was the ugliest, meanest looking cat he’d ever seen, and he was done with this bullshit.

Mouth twisted into a disgusted moue, Rus picked up the shoes with the very tips of his distal phalanges and sought out Edge. “heya, edgelord!” Rus said with faux cheer, slamming the shoes down on the table. “looks like the furball’s pissed. and so am I, actually.”

Edge looked from the ruined shoes and back to Rus. “What did you do?” he asked.

Rus blinked. “what did i—? i didn’t do anything! your cat is the one that peed on my shoes.”

“So? What did you do to upset him?”

Rus stared at him. “edge. i didn’t do anything to upset him! he’s just—a demon! i don’t know!” A guilty part of Rus’ conscience reminded him that he had failed to let the cat outside when Edge had been out running that morning. “it doesn’t matter,” he said, both to himself and to Edge, “the point is—that cat is clearly possessed and i’ve had enough!”

Edge went very quiet and very still. “…Enough?” he asked, voice soft.

Ignoring the warning signs, Rus soldiered on. “yeah. either the cat goes, or i go. i’m tired of living like this.”

Edge shut his sockets and took a slow breath. Then he stood, snatching the shoes from the table and standing uncomfortably close to Rus. “I suggest,” he said, very nearly whispering, “that you give that ultimatum some serious thought. Because I’ve had Fang much longer than I’ve had you.” With that, Edge left, slamming the door behind him. Rus stared at the door in disbelief. There’s no way Edge would choose a cat over him…right?

From the hallway, Doomfanger stared at him, cleaning his paw and staring at Rus. As if he’d understood every word and was completely unconcerned.

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Rus spent the whole day at work considering what Edge had said. At first, he was upset and appalled—Edge was being entirely unreasonable. Entirely. But as the day went on, he thought about it a little more, and he realized that…maybe…maybe…Edge wasn’t the only one being unreasonable.

So on his way home, he stopped by the bookstore and bought a few of Edge’s favorite cooking magazines, and then carefully wiped his feet off before walking into their apartment. He called out, but Edge didn’t answer, though he should have gotten home first today. Brow-bones furrowed, Rus stepped deeper into the apartment, checking each room he passed. Finally, he found Edge curled up on their bed with the lights off. Rus paused in the doorway.

Oh.

It hadn’t been a good day, then. Edge could put up a good front when out in public, but at home…he allowed his walls to drop. Rus knew that. More than once, he’d comforted his boyfriend after a hard day at work or at school (or both). He was surprised at the loud, rumbling purr, though. Edge almost never purred—not without a lot of effort on Rus’ part, at least, and not on a day like this.

Then, with a start, he realized that it wasn’t Edge purring. Doomfanger was curled in Edge’s arms, purring loud enough to fill the room with the sound. The huge cat had his forehead pressed against Edge’s, and his arms were looped over Edge’s shoulders in a gesture that seemed uncannily like a hug. Edge, meanwhile, was cuddling the cat, obviously taking comfort from the beast.

Slowly, Rus walked in, setting aside the apology gift, and he laid down on the bed. Carefully, he pressed against Edge’s back, looping an arm over Edge’s waist. He kissed the back of Edge’s skull. “bad day?” he asked softly, though the answer was obvious. Edge nodded silently, still cuddling the cat. “i’m sorry,” he whispered. Edge didn’t say anything, but Rus felt him start to relax a little.

Fang seemed to sense it too. The cat pulled back and stood, stretching. Then, with an indignant glare at Rus, he curled into a circle and laid down, one paw possessively planted on Edge’s cheekbone.

Tentatively, Rus reached out and petted the cat. “sorry, fang,” he murmured, “i know i pissed you off this morning, but i promise i won’t do it again.”

Snorting, Edge asked, “Are you lying to my cat?”

“shhh,” Rus said, “he doesn’t know that!” Settling more firmly against Edge, Rus set his chin on his shoulder and added, “besides…i figure we’ve got to make peace with each other. you know. since we’re all gonna be living together.” A lot of the tension left Edge’s shoulders, and he reached out, pulling the cat close.

Fang somehow purred even louder.

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I’ve always figured that Rus really isn’t a cat person…but he and Fang eventually forge a truce. He might not admit it, but after a few years, Rus grows to love the cat almost as much as Edge does.

My new favourite trio. This was really sweet, Kit. Lovely work.