Chapter Text
it was pouring. it had been for a few hours at least, and it didn't seem to be letting up soon. you had a special fondness for scenes the rainwater created. sitting in your small living room, near a slightly open window to smell the wet air. different colours of string lights hang near the ceiling and tv, creating a gentle colour palette for whatever had come up on youtube autoplay. you kept the volume low, not wanting to cover the sound of the rain. there was a rustling sound in the bushes near the aforementioned window, but you tried not to dwell on it too hard. there were plenty of animals seeking shelter from this onslaught of rain.
although, strangely, a few minutes later there was scratching at the door. you must be imagining it. from years of having pets in the past, you sometimes forget you don't have any right now. yeah, that’s definitely it. until you hear the scratching again, but harder this time, a bit more desperate. okay, this was fine. at worst, its probably a hungry raccoon trying to take advantage of your kindness (of which you would spoil without hesitation) so it couldn't hurt to look. the nonstop rhythmic scratching breaks you out of your hypothetical problem solving. you go to open the door, confident of what is probably behind it, only for your heart to sink to your ass.
sitting in front of you, was a long, sopping wet man. yes, long, his limbs seemed to be never ending. he was sitting on his knees with his legs splayed, hands up slightly, as he had just been scratching for the life of him. he lowers his hands, with freakishly long claw-like nails, you note, and stares up at you. giant brown eyes and- weird pupils. almost cat-like? they were blown out wide in the dark, so it was hard to tell. now that you look at him a bit harder, are those cat ears? they’re pinned back to his head, he looks so sad. you realise you've just been staring at each other, and tried push yourself to speak. obviously he needed help. wait is he naked? no, no, hes got shorts on, but why is he so bare out in the rain? you wanted to help him, but you had to be rational. this was a random, full grown, cat-like man. you had no idea where he came from or what he even was. “can i…can i help you?” you questioned, uncertain of yourself.
as you started to speak, his ears twitched, perking up slightly. he stays sitting, cowering, and starts to reply. “you’ll help me?” he replies, and you notice he tilts his head slightly while asking. god damnit. its like he knew about your soft spot for cats, and his very cute face certainly wasn't helping.
you have to make a decision. shut the door, not deal with this weird fantasy situation, or help him. let him in, get him dry and warm, maybe figure out what the fuck his deal was. you didnt have much going on in your life right now anyway, so fuck it, why not.
you step away from the doorway, bringing the door with you to gesture him in. he seems almost confused by the action, so you speak, “you can come in, i'll get you a towel,” you look directly at him while talking, and his ears perk up immediately. his eyes look hopeful and he doesn't take them off of you as he stands to almost full height. sweet christ, he was tall. easily 6’4 while slouching as he is, and you were almost scared to see him stand up straight. it was certainly different to the tiny vibes he puts out previously.
he can see the small apprehension in your eyes, and attempts to quell your anxieties, “i promise im not a murderer,” he chatters out, a breeze of cold wet air brushing past him. that was definitely not the right thing to say, but you don’t immediately slam the door in his face, so that's good.
your eyes are wide and vaguely uneasy, and you let out a nervous chuckle in response. “yeah, for sure,” you breathe out and wait for him to enter your home. you’re seriously not sure why you’re allowing this to continue, maybe a complete lack of self preservation. you had been very bored before he showed up, and this was a lot more entertaining than staring off into space. if you were being completely honest, you didn't really care if you died anyway. not that you were suicidal right now, though you had been in the past. maybe you should go back to therapy.
he realises you're waiting for him and quickly stumbles into the threshold. he trips over some long winded apologies for being so weird, but you can barely understand any of it. you quickly shut the door, as to not get anymore water sprayed into your house, and turn around to face him. by now he had quieted himself down, eyes big and sparkly as he takes in your home. it wasn’t anything special or very big, but it was distinct. it was absolutely filled to the brim with different odds and ends, strange knickknacks and decor you had collected through the years. the string lights reflected multicolour stars in his eyes and he appeared completely enamoured. seeming mostly distracted, you sped to grab him a towel from the hallway closet. you weren't that scared of him stealing or anything like that, your house being small enough that you could hear any movement. plus, where would he even hide it? you snag the towel and come back to him, he had found himself inspecting your hanging plants. you took a moment to take in his appearance.
he was completely soaked to the bone, still dribbling onto the carpet. his shaggy curly hair was dark and stuck down to his head, but his large ears were much more alert now. his shorts, which were actually dark grey boxer briefs, clung to his body and dripped. they didn't have a tail slot, so his tail is stuffed out the back of the leg hole. where did he even get those? his tail was long, to match the rest of him, and the fur seemed like it would be especially fluffy when dried. now though, its slicked and spikey from the rough handling in the rain. you see the tip twitch slightly in curiosity, and look up to see what hes doing. he’s sniffing a leaf on of one your pothos vines, and opens his mouth to gently place to leaf inside.
you step fully in the room, being sure to make yourself audible and greet him, “hey-” he cuts you off by jumping and quickly turning his head to look at you. he looks with wide eyes, and steps away from the plant to pretend nothing was happening. you continue, “-i have a towel for you, do you…want some clothes to change into?” you decide not to bring up the leaf incident. first, you needed him to stop tracking water everywhere. he nods quickly, and gently takes the towel when you offer it to him.
you rush into your room, trying to find something warm that will fit him. you were hoping to find a pair of boxers or something as well, but it seemed unlikely. you find a dark green, long sleeve thermal shirt, definitely big enough. you have no idea where or when you got it, and the same could be said for the pair of blue, fish patterned boxers you miraculously pulled from the recesses of your drawers. you decide not to question it, simply grateful he won't be naked in your home.
you come back out to the living area, seeing him sat on the floor. he was sitting on top of the towel, silently watching tv. considerably dryer now, his hair had become a big puffy mess. you could only assume he put the towel onto his head and shook himself clean. you stand next to him, holding the clothes out into his view. “here, you can change in the bathroom, its just around the corner,” you offer to him, and he scrambles to his feet swiftly with his towel, and accepts the clothes.
he thanks you as he makes his way to the bathroom, “thank you so much, thank you, you’re so so nice thank you,” he purrs at you, trying to keep looking at you while making his way. his voice fades out as he closes the door and he stops entirely, shuffling around to change his clothes.
wilbur was so happy to finally be out of the cold rain. he had been out on his own for a little while now, but he had never experienced rain like that. it terrified him to no end, and no matter how many houses he scratched at, no one wanted to help him. except you, of course. goodness, he was absolutely fascinated by you. for starters, you let a strange catboy into your home, just to help him. and on top of that, you were so, so very pretty. how did he get so lucky? he had been running on survival mode for so long, and it felt good to have a chance to finally relax, to finally feel clean. he peels the wet fabric off his body, eager to be fully dry. he pulls the shirt on, but deflates slightly after inspecting the boxers. he doesn't know why he expected a tail hole, he knew how rare people like him were. maybe it was because you had been so accommodating from the beginning, maybe you knew about people like him. he accepted his fate of having to shove his pretty tail back through the leg hole. it's not so bad with the looser underwear, but it's still irritating. he comes out of the bathroom, old garment in his hands and towel hanging off his arm.
you’re standing against the wall across from the bathroom doorway, biting at your nails and deep in thought. you startle when the door opens and look up at him. he shifts his weight between his feet and you notice the wet underwear in his hands. “i can wash those for you, if you want?” you motion to his hands, and he hands them to you quickly, along with the towel, like he expected you to ask. you throw them in a nearby laundry basket, choosing to deal with it after you dealt with him. you turn back to look at him again, “do you wanna go sit down?” you offer, wanting to figure out what his deal is already. for fucks sake, you dont even know his name. you don't wait for him to respond and go to sit on the couch. he follows close behind you, settling a considerable distance away from you.
you look over at him, almost expectedly. you didn't know what you wanted him to say, but part of you wanted him to start this interaction. you had no idea if you were going about this situation correctly, surely not, but you hadn’t died yet. he stared back at you the entire time, he was oddly persistent with eye contact. whether or not you looked back, if he knew you were in the room, he was looking at you. he didn't seem scared, just curious, almost weary. he sensed your apprehension towards the conversations that needed to happen, and decided to start things off himself.
“im wilbur,” he blurts out at you, leaning forward slightly in his excitement. okay, so he wasn’t exactly the best at social situations, but he really wants to try. he doesn't want you to be scared around him anymore, he desperately wants your affection. it almost scares him, his willingness to please you. hes gone so long without a close connection to a human, and he missed it so much. at least, he missed the good days.
you flinched a little at his outburst, but smiled in amusement. he was very sweet, it looked as though he knew the absurdity of the situation, and tried to make you as comfortable as possible. you tell him your name as well, and he smiles back at you. he’s doing it, he’s connecting! and you actually seem like you kind of like him! his tail twitches in excitement and he’s reminded of the uncomfortable bottoms. his eyebrows furrow and he turns to look at his own tail, trying to quickly solve his way out of this awful feeling. you notice his restlessness and are quick to offer assistance. “is everything okay?” you ask, and his head shoots back to look at you.
“don’t worry, m’okay,” he offers as reassurance, but you don't seem convinced. you still look worried at the way his hand keeps messing with the back of the waistband of his boxers. maybe you’ll be able to help him, you've been so lovely from the start. “it’s just, my tail doesn’t really fit in these bottoms…not that i'm not grateful! thank you so much again, by the way,” he starts to ramble at you, but you stop him by resting a hand next to him. so close to him. he stares at it, quieting at the sudden movement.
“i can cut a hole, to fit it through?” you suggest, urged to alleviate his discomfort as soon as possible. this was so weird. why did you have such an immediate desire to care for him? you both seemed equally as infatuated with each other, but did that really make it any better? he perks up at your offer and pleads once, gently, to help him. “okay, sit here, i’ll go get some scissors,” you say to him, already standing from the couch.
what the fuck was going on? who was this wilbur character, and why did you like him so much? he was, for the most part, a complete stranger, but he was so captivating. showing up at your doorstep like an injured kitten, with the distinctive features to match. amidst your racing thoughts, you find the scissors and make your way back to the couch. he sees you walk over to him, scissors in hand, and stands up. he turns his back to you and lifts his shirt up, showing his tail and whole ass. what is he doing. he looks back at you expectedly, and you realise he wants you to cut the hole in his shorts. of course, you did offer to, but you didn’t really fully think it through. that seemed to be a theme tonight. you walk closer to him, trying to figure out the best way to do this. you pinch the fabric about where his tail starts, being careful to not pick up any pieces of fur. he watches you the whole time. you slowly cut a hole large enough to fit his fluff. in the time he's been in your house and as he dries, his tail only gets fluffier. bits of it are already fluffing out of the hole. without thinking, you stick your fingers in and grab the base of his tail to pull it through. he shutters as the action causes you to pet the full length of his tail, and you pull back quickly.
“sorry, sorry i shouldn’t have just. touched you like that,” you apologise instantly, finally realising what just happened. he turned his body to face you again, tail swishing in relief.
“don't apologise! i feel so much better now, thank you,” he thanks you once again, and you felt relieved. you were glad you could fix his issue, and he was certainly very cute staring at you like that. he settles back onto the couch, eyes never leaving you. you could hear a slight rumbling, he was purring. of course he was. because he just had to be the cutest thing in the room, didn't he? you're still just looking at each other. you need to say something, anything, to try to figure this shit out.
“so…uhm, who are you?” you ask, still standing in front of him. he was so tall he barely had to look up to maintain eye contact. he's confused by your question, though. hadn’t he already told you his name? was there really much more to him, besides the obvious? you see the gears turning behind his eyes, and go to clarify yourself, “i mean, i know your name, but that's really it. you kinda just…showed up here,” you explain, hoping he understands what you’re wanting. you don't even know what you want, really. maybe, where he came from? why was he here, of all places? surely someone is looking for him, you don't see ears and tails like that every day.
a light bulb goes off at your explanation, and he's quick to offer one back. he feels bad, somewhat, for just barging into your house like this. “i came from outside,” he begins, and you look at him with your eyebrows raised. “no one else would let me in, it's raining,” he continues. you let him, hoping to get more information than the obvious things he's brought forth so far. he can feel you waiting for him, “i've been outside a long time, i needed help,” he finishes. he doesn't say anything else, but you could sense he isn't telling you something. his eyes looked pained when he briefly talked about his time out in the suburban wilderness, so you decide not to push too hard right now. hopefully, he'll warm up soon and you'd be able to get to the bottom of this.
you nod at him, showing that you somewhat understand his ramblings. “okay, yeah, that totally makes sense…” you trail off, almost sarcastic and mostly talking to yourself. he seems attentive regardless. you go back to address him directly, “we should probably find you somewhere to stay,” you start, but he startles at this. his ears pinned back to his head, just like before, and he looks worried.
“i thought I would stay here? you helped me,” he seemed more desperate as he kept talking, confused. he thought you liked him, you let him in, you even pet his tail! sure, it was probably an accident, but you didn't seem too distraught. he didn't want to go back to the streets, he didn't even want to be in anyone else's house. he liked it here. you had pretty lights, cozy blankets, tasty plants, and you were so gentle with him. he wanted to stay forever. were you already kicking him out?
as he starts to panic, his eyes shift away from your figure. he curls into himself, mumbling about how he doesn't want to leave. that was definitely not the reaction you were expecting. you quickly try to get his attention to calm him down, whatever he had experienced out there certainly took a toll on him. his own reaction caused him to panic more, was he manipulating you? he didn't want you to keep him because you felt like you had to. he wanted you to want him. he doesn't seem to hear you, curling up further and trying to calm himself down. he can be good, he will be.
in a desperate effort to calm him, you sit down close to him and place a hand in his hair. his ears, which were pinned back as far as you had ever seen them, perked up immediately in your direction. he stopped shaking and mumbling, but kept his face hidden. you card your fingers through his soft hair and find the base of his ear. you gently massage the left one, and it goes limp in your hold. his face lifts from where it was shoved into his knees, eyes closed. he jams his head into your hand, causing you to pet him a bit rougher. his purrs are almost instantaneous. surely you can't kick him out after this. this was the sweetest creature you have ever encountered, you had to help him until he can be on his own. he's obviously traumatised, it would just be cruel to send him back out all by himself. you’ll let him stay, for a little while at least. you pull your hand back from his downy fur, and he looks scared again, but you’re quick to reassure him. “don't worry, you're not going anywhere,” his body relaxes and you reach to place a hand on his knee to keep him grounded. his eyes lock onto it as soon as it starts moving towards him. “hey, i need you to pay attention, okay?” you coax, trying to make sure the touch isn't too distracting for him. he looks at your eyes and nods feverishly, he’d do anything you ask right now. you continue, deciding how you want to go about this as it's happening, “you can stay here, but only for a little while. we’ll look for somewhere of your own, together. does that sound good?” yeah, nice job you. perfect solution, he's happy and out of the wilderness, and you didn't just commit to a long term roommate. surely there will be little to no complications.
he starts purring once again, but much, much louder now. goodness, does he ever stop purring? he felt like he just died and went to heaven. he gets to stay! and you seemed to like petting him, surely there will be much more of that, if he can help it anyway. though, he never even stopped to consider what you wanted from him, and a nagging voice near the back of his head screams only bad outcomes. he deliberately ignores it though, you weren't like them. you liked him, and he liked you. your suspicion of the situation almost made him like you more. you didn't take advantage of him, you brought him in and clothed him. no, he knew you were different. he butts his head against the back of the couch and looks at you. he wanted to curl up on you so bad, but knows it way too soon. you smile sweetly and go to pet his pretty ears again, only to be cut off by the loud growl his stomach lets out.
you let out a slight exclamation at the noise, and pull your hand back. he whines, but you ignore him. with fur that soft, he’ll get plenty of pets. though, had you really forgotten to feed him? through all this confusion, you must've. when was the last time he had eaten? judging by how you could see his spine through the shirt, it's been a while. you pout at the realisation and stand up, grabbing his hand to take him with you. his tail swishes in curiosity as you drag him the short distance to the kitchen area. “lets get you something to eat, you must be starving,” you speak out, shuffling through the fridge to find something. he stalks around the small kitchen, he hasn't been in this part of the house yet and needs to explore, apparently. you watch him, almost in
admiration. this is definitely an odd solution to your boredom problem, but not an unwelcome one.