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Kenma didn’t know much about anything. He knew the basics, he knew how to function and he knew how to carry himself properly. He knew how to take care of himself, he knew how to live in society, he knew how to live a normal, uneventful life. He also knew how to play videogames and he knew he wasn’t suited for labor jobs. He knew how to cook just enough so that he didn’t spend his paycheck solely on bentos from the convenience store down the block (not that he would’ve minded those, not at all). The fact was that he knew just enough to keep him alive.
But the one thing he was absolutely sure of was that he didn’t have a cat. He never had the time, leaving for work early in the morning and getting home late every single day. He never had the interest, if he was being honest, because it was hard enough to take care of himself, how was he supposed to take care of another living thing? He couldn’t even keep a houseplant alive, for fucks sake.
And that’s why he halts as soon as he gets home.
To say he’s exhausted would be a euphemism. Work always managed to drain every ounce of energy he had and he’d grown used to the dead look behind his eyes already. His friends didn’t even comment on it anymore, but he would’ve been dumb not to notice the ever-growing dark circles beneath his eyes or the way it looked like he’d aged ten years in the span of three months. Adult life, Kenma told himself more often than not, was scary.
Yawning, he closes the door behind him and walks lazily towards the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea before slouching down on his couch and watching whatever weird movie showed up first. But he stops in his tracks the very moment he sees it. He’s tired, sure, but he’s not tired to the point where you start seeing things that aren’t there. He thinks he must be hallucinating – there’s no other reason for the scene he’s seeing. Because Kenma might be exhausted but he sure as hell would remember having a fucking cat, of all things, and he sure as hell would remember that his supposedly imaginary cat liked chilling inside his kitchen sink.
He doesn’t own a fucking cat.
It grooms itself, not even looking at him, still in shock at the doorstep. It yawns and stretches, getting up and taking a few steps, walking in circles, before flopping down on the sink again. It rests its head on top of its paws and Kenma swears he might be seeing things when it looks up at him, something in its eyes making fun of him.
“I’m not sleeping enough,” he says to himself. The cat perks up its ears, still staring at him. “Where the hell did you come from?”
He feels stupid.
The tabby looks up at him with its head tilted to the side, meowing softly when Kenma touches its ears, nuzzling up to his hand. It wouldn’t be bad, Kenma thinks, having a pet. He just doesn’t have the time nor the energy to keep something other than himself alive.
It fucking meows, nuzzling his palm. It closes its eyes and it fucking purrs.
“What am I supposed to do with you?” He asks in a whisper. The tabby looks at him once again and Kenma swears he sees it smirking. “I don’t know how to take care of a cat. Why are you here? Where did you come from?”
Obviously, the cat doesn’t answer. But Kenma still stares at it as if he’s waiting for it to say something, anything.
He takes his phone out of his pocket and dials the number he already knows by heart. He thinks he’ll probably be made fun of. Or probably scolded, since he obviously left some window open for this little thing to climb through and chill inside his kitchen sink until he got home from work.
It does have a tag, Kenma notices while the phone rings, but there’s nothing written on it. The cat nuzzles his palm and he allows himself to dip his fingers in its fur, scratching softly behind its ear and soon after that, it begins to purr once again. He doesn’t even notice the smile on his face until Kuroo picks up and he feels it dropping almost instantly.
“Already missing me, I see? It’s Friday, Kenma, go out!”
Kenma rolls his eyes and sighs hard on the speaker. “I need advice.”
“Oh? So you finally recognized I’m the most experienced one, eh?”
“Kuro,” he whines. “Stop being a jerk. I’m serious. What do you do when you come home and you find a cat chilling inside your kitchen sink? It doesn’t have a tag, and… wait, it does have a tag, but there’s nothing written on it and I have no idea where it came from. I don’t know how to take care of a cat. Hell, I don’t even know how to take care of myself properly, how am I going to take care of a cat? Do I go outside and ask everyone I meet if this is their cat?”
Kuroo is silent for a few seconds. And he bursts out laughing the minute Kenma allows himself to breathe.
“I’m serious, Kuro,” he huffs. “I shouldn’t have called you. I’m calling Yaku. He’ll know what to do. You’ll just keep laughing until I hang up anyways…”
“Wait,” he chuckles and Kenma notices the strain in his voice from laughing so hard. That fucker, he thinks. “Are you sure you’re not half asleep and seeing things? Or that you’re not exhausted to the point you’re actually seeing things?”
“I swear on my life there’s a cat on my kitchen sink and as we’re talking it decided to nuzzle my hand while it fucking purrs, Kuro. I don’t even own a cat! Where did it come from?!”
Kenma wasn’t one to talk much in normal situations. But in times like these, he couldn’t even bring himself to care about the exasperation in his voice, the way it cracked weirdly whenever he got too excited (or, rather, distraught), the way it exhausted him, the whole talking-everything-that-comes-to-mind thing. He didn’t like surprises and he didn’t like how there was this whole situation he couldn’t understand. He liked puzzles, but the kind of puzzle you know it’s coming, the kind of puzzle you encounter in games so you can progress. He didn’t like the kind of puzzle that came with a fucking cat on his kitchen sink when he comes home from work, exhausted and in need of a warm bath and a nice cup of tea, not the kind of puzzle that made him wonder just how the hell did this thing get in here?
“Right,” Kuroo huffs. “Are you sure there’s nothing written down on the tag? No name? No phone number? You can’t keep calling it the fucking cat, Kenma. It’ll stick around and the owner will probably get pissed.”
“The owner should’ve been more careful and then I wouldn’t have to deal with a fucking cat in my kitchen sink, Kuro," he blurts out, sighing. “So, what? Do I go out and buy cat food? Does it need a litter box? How do I keep a cat? It purrs when I touch it so I think it likes me? What do I do?”
Kuroo chuckles. “You’re just so precious.”
“I’m serious here. Do I just leave it in the house and go out to buy stuff? It does have an owner, you know? It doesn’t look like it’s hungry and it has a very soft and fluffy fur. I can’t just kidnap someone else’s cat, Kuro. I have morals.”
“What are you on about?” He giggles. “You didn’t kidnap the cat, Kenma. If anything, the cat was the criminal. It broke into your home, didn’t it?”
“I can’t keep someone else’s cat,” Kenma repeats, rolling his eyes.
“Do you want me to help you? I can get those for you while you try to come up with something. You can walk around your complex and like… ask people about the cat?”
“That requires energy,” Kenma replies. “And you know I have none to spare.”
“Alright. You could also just… keep the cat.”
“I can’t,” he whines. “It’s too much work, Kuro. Bring me the things and I’ll pay you back and then I’ll think about what I’m going to do with this adorable trespasser.”
“Already giving it a name?” Kuroo teases and Kenma sighs.
“I’m not keeping it, Kuro. No way.”
But he might have considered it in the few hours Kuroo took to get to his house and deliver Adorable Trespasser’s new goods. He now had bowls and a litter box and Kenma didn’t really get why Kuroo thought buying three different kinds of cat food was a good idea when he wasn’t keeping it around for long, but he took them anyway. Adorable Trespasser kept nuzzling his legs whenever he took a step, which definitely made moving around a lot harder than it would’ve been, but Kenma would be lying if he said it wasn’t the cutest thing ever.
He might have thought it would be nice to come home to these fluffy ears and adorable green eyes and adorable little face. He might have thought he could get used to the constant nuzzling even though it made walking around the house harder than it should’ve been. He might have thought about the purring and how good it would be to have something fluffy and warm to cuddle with. He might have thought it would be nice to have something to come home to, even though it would mean he’d have to work hard to keep something other than himself alive.
He wouldn’t tell Kuroo. But he thought about it.
And even when his bedside table says it’s almost 3AM, Kenma is still staring lovingly at the tabby, sprawled on top of his stomach, purring softly as he scratches its ears. Everything looks kind of hazy and he’s so tired he could pass out at any second now, but still, how could he not appreciate the tiny bundle of adorableness on top of his stomach? Adorable Trespasser has its paws tucked under him, head resting softly on Kenma’s chest, slightly tilted, nuzzling his hand.
Kenma didn’t know much about anything, and much less about cats, but if there’s one thing he definitely knows is that sometimes people think they’re antisocial and kind of rude. He knows some cats don’t really like to be touched all that much, but apparently Adorable Trespasser is a very weird cat. It didn’t complain when Kenma lifted it up from the kitchen sink and put it down. If anything, it just nuzzled his legs and kept following him around. For every step he took, Adorable Trespasser was right there, entangling itself on his legs.
“You’re very weird, do you know that?” Kenma babbles, yawning. Adorable Trespasser’s ears twitch. “Are you really going to sleep on my stomach? Do you not have any decency?”
Adorable Trespasser yawns and curls itself on top of his stomach. Kenma can’t help but giggle.
“You pushed off my single living houseplant, did you know that?” He caresses the tabby’s head. “Well. That might’ve been my fault for leaving the bedroom window slightly opened. But still. Don’t you have manners? You can’t just walk in on someone else’s house, you criminal.”
It opens its eyes slightly as if it’s glaring at Kenma.
“What are you looking at?” He chuckles.
He allows himself to dip his fingers in its fur, tilting his head so he’s able to see the cat’s expression. It looks serene, eyes closed and ears twitching whenever Kenma brushes past them, purring softly. It’s not so bad, Kenma thinks, having a cat. He might be able to pull it off if he reduces his gaming sessions every night. Adorable Trespasser yawns once again, stretching on top of Kenma’s stomach.
“I think you just pressed on my liver,” he giggles. “Have you got no shame? Manners!”
The cat tilts its head to the side.
“Yeah,” Kenma chuckles. “You ill-mannered tiny criminal.”
He thinks about what Kuroo would say if he saw him like that, sprawled across his mattress with a cat on top of his stomach, talking to it as if it would be able to understand what he was saying. Ridiculous, he thinks, but he doesn’t care. The cat twitches its ears every time Kenma blabbers something out, meowing softly and nuzzling his hand.
He reaches for his phone on his bedside table and types out how do you know if a cat is male or female because he has to come up with a name if he's going to keep it. It can’t be called Adorable Trespasser or Tiny Criminal for the rest of its life, Kenma decides. And he’s never had a cat before so he wouldn’t know. And it doesn’t let Kenma touch its stomach without trying to scratch him.
Google would have the answers.
There’s a thump thump thump sound just as Kenma opens a new tab on his phone and he dismisses it instantly. It’s probably one of his neighbors having loud sex as usual. Or probably one of his drunk neighbors coming home after getting wasted again. It’s a weird cohabitation, Kenma thinks, but it’s cheap and comfortable enough, so he doesn’t mind it all that much.
Adorable Trespasser lifts up its head when there’s another sound, twitching its ears.
“Are you curious?” Kenma whispers.
The walls are thin enough for him to know there’s no one having unnecessarily loud sex next doors, and probably no drunk neighbor stumbling through the hallways, because he’d definitely hear them puking or singing along to the elevator music. There’s the thump thump thump again, louder this time, and Kenma sighs.
He looks at the cat, comfortably sprawled across his stomach, head perked up, staring at the living room without even blinking. It’s louder this time, more like a knock, and Kenma almost cusses while picking up the cat so he can get up. Who the hell knocks at someone else’s door at three in the morning?, Kenma thinks. I swear I’m going to scream.
It’s not like he’d been jolted awake. But he didn’t exactly enjoy being visited in the middle of the night when he’d much rather cuddle with his newfound cat.
“I’m coming, jeez,” he huffs while walking to the door.
There’s another knock and Kenma almost stops in his tracks. Fucking hell, he thinks, someone’s impatient tonight. He wonders just why the hell someone thought it would be a good idea to knock on a stranger’s door in the middle of the night. If it was Kuroo, he would’ve called or at least sent a text. If it was Yaku, he would’ve told him he was coming hours ago – and, then again, he wouldn’t go to his house at three in the fucking morning.
It might’ve been a joke, Kenma thinks. Someone might be pranking him.
“Why are you so energetic at three in the morning?” He asks in a whisper, unlocking the door.
And he halts.
There’s a young man standing in front of him. Maybe in his early twenties, eyes red and puffy, despair written all over his features, an orange mess on top of his head, panting and, he notices, only in his boxers. Which wouldn’t be a problem if he hadn’t thrown himself on Kenma, gripping his shoulders and shaking him lightly, words jumbled out in a high-pitched voice.
“I’m sorry!” He yells, still shaking him. Kenma swears his eardrums are about to burst. “Hi! Cat!”
“Sure?”
“Cat! I’m looking for my cat!” He lets Kenma go, taking two steps back, hands up in the air as if Kenma just pointed a gun at him. “I was out today and left him at home but now I can’t find him. I know it’s three in the morning and I know you might want to murder me right now for interrupting your sleep but I can pay you if you help me find him.”
He opens his mouth to answer and the guy widens his eyes.
“Please, I really cannot find him and I know it’s insane because it’s so late,” he blabbers. “But Neil Catrick Harris and I would really appreciate if you’d help us out. Please?”
Kenma blinks. Once, twice. And a few times more. Neil Catrick Harris, he repeats in his head. Neil Catrick Harris and I would appreciate your help, he hears in his head. The boy is still staring up at him, eyes puffy and wide, sparkling with hope and Kenma sighs, shaking his head. Why is it that he was always attracting the weirdest people?
“Why are you in your underwear?” Kenma asks, finally.
The guy blushes, looking down. “I was about to get in the bath when I called him and he didn’t come trotting towards me. I kind of panicked and forgot I was half-naked.”
“So you’re telling me you could’ve knocked on my door at three in the morning completely naked?”
“I guess,” he giggles, scratching his head. Kenma snorts. “Have you seen a chubby tabby cat around? Green eyes? One of my friends got him a tag but there’s nothing on it, so I guess he’ll be regarded as a stray now. Did you see him around? He likes to have his ears scratched and he’s very affectionate.”
Kenma doesn’t notice his mouth hanging open until the boy takes a step forward.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he gulps. “Would you like to come in?”
“You’re very pretty,” he says.
Kenma blinks at him, cocking his head to the side. “Okay?”
“No!” He shouts, throwing his hands up again. “I mean, you’re very pretty and you look like a nice person and I’d love to get to know you better but it’s three in the morning and I’m in my underwear and I really need to look for my cat.”
I wasn’t asking you out, Kenma thinks.
“And I also really like your hair, it looks really soft. But it’s late and you probably need to sleep, hell, I need sleep! But I also need to find Neil.” He babbles on. “If you see him, I live one floor up, on 303. Sorry for waking you up!”
Kenma sighs. “The least you can do is listen to what I have to say after clinging to me at three in the morning while you're in your underwear.”
“Oh.”
“Come on in,” he says. “I’ll make us coffee. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep anyway.”
He gulps down before taking a step forward, and then another, and another, until he’s inside and Kenma can close the door behind him. He pretends not to notice him shivering. As if on cue, Adorable Trespasser (or Neil Catrick Harris, as Kenma just found out) trots happily into view and the guy actually shrieks, kneeling on the floor and opening his arms.
The cat looks at him and yawns.
“He still doesn’t seem to like me all that much,” he giggles, looking up at Kenma.
“He’s very affectionate,” Kenma replies.
“Really?!” He shrieks.
“In fact,” Kenma goes on, walking towards the kitchen. The cat follows right behind. “He was sprawled across my stomach when you knocked on my door. He purrs a lot, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah,” he giggles, getting up on his feet.
It seems to dawn on him that, yes, he’s on a stranger’s house in the middle of the night and that he’s not exactly dressed for the occasion. Kenma sees it flashing in his eyes as he tries to cover himself up with his arms, looking down in embarrassment. He tries to muffle a chuckle, but fails miserably and gets a nasty look from the strange guy.
“Would you like something to wear?”
“You took care of my cat and you’re making me coffee at three in the morning,” he giggles. “I can’t just ask you to get me some of your clothes.”
“You can just grab the jumper I threw on the couch, though,” he shrugs from behind the counter, smiling at him. “You can catch a cold if you walk around wearing only your boxer briefs, you know?”
He pouts. “I was just really worried.”
“Yeah, I could tell.”
The guy looks down to his hands, fidgeting with the sleeve of Kenma’s jumper, slightly smaller than it was supposed to be. Kenma has to look away so he doesn’t chuckle and soon the cat is nuzzling his legs, walking around the kitchen and purposely bumping into him every time he gets close to him.
Soon enough, the smell of coffee starts to take over the apartment and Kenma sighs, grabbing the only two mugs he has in the house. He wasn’t much of a gathering kind-of-guy and the only person that was constantly coming over was Kuroo, anyway. It’s a good thing, though, Kenma tells himself, because now he doesn’t have to share a mug with the cute-but-weird neighbor from one floor up.
He tries to walk back to the living room – a task that proves to be harder than usual because Neil keeps bumping into his legs, running around them and making him take lots wrong steps. The guy giggles when he finally sits down next to him with a sigh, the tabby jumping on top of his lap eagerly.
“He really likes you,” he notes, taking a sip.
“Yeah,” Kenma sighs. “He was in my kitchen sink when I came home from work today.”
“In your sink?!”
“And why haven’t you gotten him a new tag? I was about to name him Adorable Trespasser, you know? You have to get him a proper one soon because he’s cute. People won’t hesitate to kidnap him if he’s aimlessly walking around like that.”
“Adorable Trespasser?”
“And! What’s gotten into you, walking around in your underwear like that? Aren’t you afraid people will think weird things? You should value yourself more.”
The guy looks at him wide-eyed. And soon after that, he bursts into laughter, putting the cup down and clutching his own stomach. Adorable Trespasser (or, rather, Neil) perks up his ears and stares at his owner, head tilted to the side. Kenma pouts, hiding his face behind his mug – because then he’ll be able to lie and tell the guy his cheeks are red because of the steam and not because he’s embarrassed. Because he’s not. Definitely not.
He’s not good with people and having a total stranger sat on his couch at three in the morning wearing only his boxers and Kenma’s jumper while laughing at him is too much. He can almost feel the cogs in his brain bursting into flames.
“What,” he complains.
“It’s just,” the guy still giggles, gasping for air. “I had this image of you when I walked past you in the hallways and you completely shattered it now. You give off this really unfriendly vibe, did you know that?”
“I get that sometimes,” he mumbles out.
“But you’re actually really nice,” he smiles proudly. “I mean, you took care of a stranger’s cat and you didn’t even mind that I interrupted your sleep in my boxers at three in the morning to find my lost cat. And you even made me coffee. And you’re still listening to me and telling me to value myself more, so I mean…”
Kenma snorts, shaking his head.
“But I do have to say I’m very sad to see Neil Catrick Harris likes you more than he likes me,” he admits, pretending to look sad, although the smile never leaves his face. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. I just found him in my kitchen sink and he was already purring when I got home.”
As if he knows they’re talking about him, the cat stretches and nuzzles Kenma’s hand before walking towards the other guy, sprawling himself on top of his naked legs. Neil meows and nuzzles his skin, to which Naked Neighbor, as Kenma decided to call him, responded with a loud coo.
“He’s adorable,” Kenma says.
“He is, isn’t he?” He replies in a whisper. “Oh! I never introduced myself! I’m Hinata Shouyou, I live on 303, thanks for taking care of my cat!”
“So lively.”
“I get that a lot, actually,” he giggles. “It’s like my only quality or something.”
“I bet that’s not true.”
He smiles at Kenma, nodding lightly.
“I’m Kenma,” is all he says back.
“Nice to meet you,” he giggles childishly. “You can call me Shouyou, I don’t mind.”
“Nice to meet you, Shouyou,” Kenma smiles at him, taking another sip. “But I’d much rather have met you under different circumstances. I feel like we jumped a lot of hurdles.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” he chuckles, putting his mug down. If there’s anything his friendship with Kuroo has taught him, it’s how to be cheeky. “I already saw you half-naked. You practically jumped on me the first time I saw you. I won’t be impressed that easily anymore, you know? The whole the-first-impression-counts story? It’s true.”
Kenma swears he sees Shouyou’s cheeks redden and then lose all color in less than a second.
“I’m…”
“I’m joking,” he clarifies, chuckling. “I was just trying to be funny. I'm just not very good at it.”
“Oh,” he giggles, nodding. “Well! Thanks for taking care of Neil for me. I’ll, uh, take him back now, if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, sure,” Kenma nods, even though he doesn’t really want him to leave. If it’s simply because of him or because of the cat, Kenma isn’t sure. “I, uh, my friend bought some things earlier today because we thought he was a stray and I’d have to keep him until we found his owner. I guess you can take that?”
Shouyou blinks at him a few times, confusion plastered on his face. And then his lips break in what might be the cutest smile Kenma has ever seen in his entire life and the sight of it does something to his heart.
“You bought him things?”
“Well, I didn’t actually buy them, my friend chose them and I just paid for it,” he shrugs.
“So you bought him things,” the guy snorts. “This is so adorable.”
“Huh?”
“You wanting to take care of someone else’s cat and buying him things.”
“I didn’t exactly have a choice since he was already very comfortable in my kitchen sink,” he pouts. “There’s nothing cute about that. I have morals.”
He starts to giggle and soon enough Kenma finds himself giggling along with him, shaking his head at how absurd this whole thing is. Neil looks up at them in confusion, ears twitching at the loud sounds, and mere seconds later he’s already lying down in between them, yawning and nuzzling the soft cushions before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. It would be nice to have a cat, Kenma thinks. It was fun to have Neil around for a day.
“I’ll pay you back in cat litter,” he says.
“Excuse me?”
“The things you bought him,” Shouyou explains. “I’ll pay you back in cat litter.”
“Why would I need cat litter?” Kenma chuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t have a cat.”
Shouyou blinks up at him, mouth hanging open, eyes hazy. Kenma nods, looking back down to the cat, comfortably curled up in between them, ears twitching ever so slightly whenever one of them moved. Maybe he should drag Kuroo to the closest animal shelter so he could help him find a cat. Maybe he should make him buy stuff for his new cat since he was the one who insisted on him keeping the Adorable Trespasser who ended up having the weirdest name ever.
“Now I feel bad for taking him home,” he sighs, shaking his head. “And besides! He seems to like you way more than he likes me. This is just unfair.”
Kenma chuckles. “It’s your cat.”
“But he likes you more.”
“I’m just a neighbor who has a comfy kitchen sink, apparently.”
Shouyou smiles, reaching for Neil, who’s still asleep. “Thanks for taking care of him. I mean it. Some people would’ve just thrown him out and wouldn’t care less about what happened to him.”
Kenma nods.
“I’ll go now,” he says after taking a deep breath. “But I’ll bring him over sometimes, if you don’t mind? He seems to like being here, anyway. And I might, too. It’s not every day you get coffee and a jumper and sympathy at three in the morning after getting out of your house only in your boxer briefs. Thanks for not calling the police on me.”
“I would have if you’d woken me up,” Kenma admits. “But Neil kept me awake, so maybe he was onto something.”
“Cats just know, man,” he giggles before getting on his feet. “I do feel bad about taking him home now, though. He seems so comfortable.”
Kenma doesn’t even think before blurting out: “I could keep him here and you can pick him up tomorrow morning. Well, today, actually. But you can go home and sleep a bit. I’ll keep him until you’re able to rest a bit. And, well, put on some pants.”
Shouyou blushes, looking down as a smile breaks through his lips. “Alright,” he nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Kenma.”
He walks slowly towards the door and something inside Kenma tells him to ask him to spend the night. He could take the couch and have Neil curl up on top of his stomach while Shoyo took his bed for the night. His sheets would smell like him and he’d be able to see him first thing in the morning. He doesn’t know why, or how, but his chest hurts all of a sudden. He doesn’t believe in love at first sight or anything like that – because that would definitely be impossible. Especially with a first impression as bad as someone showing up at your doorstep only in boxer briefs in the middle of the night. Definitely not love at first sight, but definitely interest at first sight.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he giggles once he gets to the door. “Your jumper.”
“You can keep it for the night,” Kenma says. “I keep your cat, you keep my jumper.”
“Right,” he whispers. “Alright. See you in the morning.”
“See you.”
He slept for what seemed like mere five minutes, Neil neatly tucked between his body and a cushion he got from Yaku when he moved in. Even if he didn’t feel rested at all, he remembered dreaming about pale skin, moles and orange hair. There was also something about boxers flying around but he wasn’t so sure about that part. Neil meows at him as soon as he opens his eyes, nuzzling his face.
“Good morning,” he yawns and the cat replies with a purr.
Kenma didn’t even notice when he fell asleep, his eyelids heavy and vision blurry. Shouyou had left and he waited a few minutes, staring at the door, before getting up and making his way to lock it. He didn’t even go to bed, curling up against the cat on the couch, feeling his soft fur beneath his fingers, tickling the sensitive skin right where his shirt had slid up a bit. His back hurt and his neck was in agony from sleeping in a weird position.
The mugs were still on the coffee table.
He sighs, rubbing his eyes before gathering the strength to get up. Neil meows disapprovingly when he moves and Kenma chuckles in response, shaking his head and scratching right behind his ear as an apology. A yawn breaks out of him and tears pool up in his eyes. The world is still kind of hazy and Kenma thinks about lying down again and letting sleep claim him once again.
Until he hears the knocks.
“Who the hell–”
With a huff, he gets up again. Neil jumps off the couch and walks in between his legs, nuzzling him and making it a lot harder to walk. He’s not even seeing things clearly, sleep still dragging his eyelids down every time he blinks, and having a tiny thing bumping against him sure isn’t helping his poor balance.
There’s another knock. Kenma wants to scream. He doesn’t know what time it is but it’s definitely too early for this. Who the hell decides to pay someone a visit in a Saturday morning, anyway?
When he opens the door, there’s a guy standing in front of him.
There’s a guy with the same messy orange hair and the same warm eyes, but now he’s wearing pants. He’s smiling softly, blinking lazily at Kenma while trying to hide his fidgeting behind the sleeves of his oversized jumper.
“Hi?” Kenma says, still groggy, voice raspy and rough.
“You’re not a morning person, are you?” He giggles. “Good morning, Kenma! I brought your jumper back. Did I wake you up?”
“No,” he yawns. “Have you had breakfast? I can make us some coffee and toast. But that’s about all I’m willing to do, though. Nothing too fancy or elaborate.”
“Definitely not a morning person, then,” he notes, still giggling. “I’ll take you up on the coffee, then. And I thought, maybe, we could talk about Neil and me paying you back. Not in cat litter. But it could be, I don’t know.”
“Why would I need cat litter when I don’t have a cat, you moron?”
He takes a step back and yawns, waving his hands as if he’s telling Shouyou to come in. The orange-haired guy takes a few steps forward, muttering a low sorry for intruding before walking in and Kenma almost snorts, remembering how desperately he’d jumped him only a few hours prior. As soon as he closes the door, Shouyou tugs at his shirt lightly and Kenma looks back with an arched eyebrow.
“I was thinking,” he says almost in a whisper, and Kenma has to concentrate so he can understand what he’s saying. “I didn’t get a blink of sleep last night because I kept thinking about Neil and him liking you more than he likes me. He’s still my cat!”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I never said he wasn’t. You were the one who agreed to keep him here for the night.”
“I know. But I kept thinking about it,” he sighs. “I started thinking about, like, when parents get a divorce?”
Wait.
“And the kid has to choose who they want to stay with? But Neil is the kid.”
Wait the fuck up.
“But we’re not married or anything, we just met yesterday. But he likes you enough so I think it’s only fair that you take responsibility! He’ll keep running away and waiting for you in your kitchen sink if you disagree with me in this one.”
“Sure?”
He giggles and Kenma finally spins around to take a good look at him. His cheeks are red and he’s biting his bottom lip so hard it’s become white. He’s not looking at Kenma, staring at his own feet instead. From the couch, Kenma sees Neil perking his ears up, stretching and yawning before turning around and resuming his nap, completely ignorant to the weird request his owner’s making.
“So you’re saying you want to… co-parent your cat?” He asks and Shouyou nods, still not looking at him properly. “You’re saying you want to co-parent your cat with… me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He giggles, finally looking up. His whole face is red now, but his eyes sparkle with something Kenma doesn’t recognize. He’s not awake enough for this, surely, and he’s betting he heard something wrong because there is absolutely no way his cute upstairs neighbor owns the cat he found inside his kitchen sink and it’s even less likely that said cute neighbor wants him to co-parent his cat. Is that even a thing?, Kenma asks himself. To co-parent a cat? And even if it is, he keeps going, why is it that he’s asking me?! We don’t even know each other.
“Because he likes you,” he shrugs, smiling sweetly. “And if I’m being honest, I don’t think you’re all that bad yourself, you know?”
“Uh,” Kenma gulps. “Thanks?”
“But I was thinking,” he goes on. “I can’t pay you back in cat litter because that’s a shitty way to pay someone back, don’t you think? I could take you out for dinner instead. What do you say?”
Kenma wants to scream.
But he nods anyway.
“Great,” he smiles, letting go of his shirt, finally.
Shouyou stretches and then scans the room after the cat. When he finds him, he trots happily towards the couch, flopping down next to him and promptly burying his hands on Neil’s fur. Kenma still stands by the door, seemingly paralyzed, not really knowing how to react to this whole situation. He thinks about what he’s going to tell Kuroo and how he’ll get him to shut up when he starts teasing him about this, about how he agreed to go out with the stupid half-naked neighbor who jumped him the first time they met, whose cat apparently really likes to chill inside Kenma's kitchen sink. He feels like his brain is about to explode.
Oh, man, he thinks, closing his eyes for a second. This whole thing is a disaster, he thinks.
But he gets to keep the cat. Well, kind of.
“Oh, and Kenma?”
“Yeah?”
He smiles. “About that coffee?”