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Jabber almost makes Zanka forget the reality of his situation.
It’s Zanka’s fault, really. He shouldn’t have let Jabber walk him to his apartment door. He should’ve simply said “goodnight” in the car and left it at that. But no, he had to be weak to Jabber’s smile and seemingly gentlemanly request of, “Let me walk you to your door, sweetheart.”
Lately, Jabber’s been asking the same question at the end of their dates. Usually, Zanka has the sense to make out with him in his car and/or something more (usually something more) to satisfy him enough for the evening. Sometimes, Zanka’s smart enough to ask to stay at Jabber’s place, but that’s starting to wear out its welcome because Jabber ends up asking, “Why can’t we go to your place for once?”
So he should’ve known that Jabber’s polite request to walk him to the door was an excuse to press him against the front door, kiss him nice and slow, and whisper, “Invite me in tonight, Zanka.”
Zanka tries searching for the word “no,” but it’s become lost in a pleasant little fog. He knows that’s on purpose, knows that Jabber thinks that if he turns him on just enough, he’ll be able to get his way.
He’s probably right, but Zanka will never admit it out loud.
Jabber’s lips are soft and insistent, the deep purple lipstick staining Zanka’s lips like they’re trying to brand him. As the kiss shifts into something Zanka hopes his neighbors don’t witness, Jabber’s fingers sneak into his shirt, painted nails lightly scratching down his spine, and ah, shit, he can invite him in, right? Just this one time? Can guide him to his bedroom and close the door before-
Scratch.
Scratch.
Scraaaaatch.
“What the hell?” Jabber pulls back and tilts his head, confused. “Is there something scratchin’ at your door?”
Shit.
“Ah. Yeah. I should get inside.”
“What ya got in there, Zan-Zan?” Jabber smirks. “Why you bein’ so secretive? You got another man in there?”
“Be serious, Jabber.”
“I know it ain’t a woman. You gay as hell, my guy.”
“Fuck off, Jabber,” but there’s no bite to his words. It’s not like Jabber’s lying.
“Come ooooon, what are you hidin’ from me?”
“It’s just a cat, damn.”
Jabber raises an eyebrow. Did he hear that right? “A... cat?”
“You do know what a cat is, yeah?”
“Um... duh. I got one at my place. You’ve met him.”
Jabber is the most animated man that Zanka’s ever dated, but his cat is the exact opposite. Zanka’s barely met Jabber’s cat because, despite his boyfriend’s attempts to get him to come out and play, the cat stays in his spot under the couch, as if he refuses to acknowledge anyone’s existence.
“Why you ain’t tell me you have a cat, too?”
“It ain’t that big of a deal.”
That’s a lie. As a cat owner, Zanka knows that the most important personality trait he has is being a cat owner. He’s supposed to show off pictures, especially since he’s dating someone with a cat, too. But even if his phone is full of photos of his cat, he knows a single picture will lead to the one thing he can never do if he wants to maintain this relationship.
A request to actually see his cat in person.
“If it ain’t that big of a deal then let me meet him.”
“No.”
Jabber laughs as if Zanka just told the funniest joke he’s ever heard. When he sees the look on Zanka’s face, he realizes his boyfriend’s being serious. “For real? Why? You think I can’t handle your cat?”
“Oh, I know you can’t. No one can. No offense.”
“How is that no offense? That’s a FULL offense!”
SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH!
SCRAAAAAATCH!
“Ugh, we can talk about this later. I gotta go.”
Before Jabber can think to say anything else, Zanka’s got the door open and is stepping into his apartment. For a moment, Jabber catches a glimpse of the cat that Zanka’s been keeping from him. He’s a tiny little thing, a lot smaller than his own cat, with a perfectly groomed coat of white fur with hints of gray stripes. His eyes are wide and bright, making him look like a young, innocent kitten who’d probably go viral on social media.
“Oh, is that him?” Jabber kneels down and smiles. “‘Sup lil' man? Nice to meet ya.”
The cat takes one look at Jabber, lets out a loud hiss, and then attempts to bolt after him. Zanka slams the door shut before the cat can reach his boyfriend, and the unmistakable sound of a small, furry body ramming into it follows.
“Well, my relationship with Jabber is officially over.”
Riyo looks over from where she’s lounging on Zanka’s couch, legs dangling over the arm. Rudo is busy trying to bat at her feet, Riyo purposely lifting them just out of reach when the small cat swipes at them. “Did Jabber break up with you?”
“That can’t be right,” Enjin says from his spot in the oversized chair. Chairs like that aren’t really Zanka’s style. They’re too bulky and take up a lot of space. But Enjin likes it, so Zanka keeps it around. “That dude’s pretty sprung on you.”
Sprung is an understatement. They haven’t come up with a word to properly convey how one Jabber Wonger feels about Zanka Nijiku. That said, no amount of worship, devotion, or obsession can stand against Zanka’s little fur baby. Rudo may be shaped like a cat, complete with all the audacity, but he's as ferocious as an uncaged wolf trying to protect something precious to him. “He ain’t break up with me yet, but he’s gonna.” Zanka plops down on the other end of the couch. “He saw Rudo last night.”
Riyo adjusts herself so she’s sitting up on the couch. Rudo immediately runs over and chomps down on her big toe. Riyo winces and readjusts herself so her feet aren’t on the floor for Rudo to attack. “Yep, it’s definitely over.”
Zanka gives Rudo a look, one that often gets others to realize he means business, that he’s a threat. Rudo responds by contorting his body so he can lick his butthole. Nice. “He’s gonna ask to meet the little fucker, then it’s all downhill from there.”
“Damn. That’s too bad.” Enjin doesn't even bother to give some tired speech on how it ain’t over until one of them says it’s over. “Thought this one might last but... ain’t no way he’s gonna stick around with this little runt running around your place.”
Rudo scurries over to Enjin, jumps onto his leg, and digs his claws through his baggy pants until he manages to hit skin. Enjin laughs through gritted teeth. “Hey hey, ow, what’d I do to you?!”
“You called him a runt.” Even if it's true, Riyo knows better than to say it within earshot of Rudo.
“He IS a runt-OW! Jeez!” Enjin can already feel a bit of blood trickling out of the claw marks he knows he has now.
“Rudo, calm down,” Zanka snaps. “You’ve already done enough damage to the door. Leave Enjin alone.”
“Naw, he’s cool.” Enjin’s definitely dealt with worse. He’s got tattoos for cryin’ out loud. “He’s just bein’ playf-OW! Okay Rudo, chill!”
Of course, tattoos are a planned form of pain, nothing like a feisty cat with claws too sharp for his small body.
“That’s it. I’m throwing him back out on the streets.”
Rudo responds to the threat by finally trying to detach himself from Enjin’s pant leg. With one of his claws stuck in the fabric, all he can do is let out a loud whine.
“I got him.” Riyo walks over and offers Rudo a kind smile as she kneels down to try to pull him off Enjin’s pants. Rudo responds by hissing at her and trying to scratch her with his free paw.
“And this is why Jabber’s gonna break up with me.” Zanka gets up and manages to pull Rudo loose before he sets him down on the ground. Rudo hisses at Enjin and Riyo one more time before he runs off to make good use of one of his many scratching posts. Sure, it’s not as entertaining as the door or Enjin’s leg, but it’ll do. “No one wants to deal with that little piece of shit.”
“You know, I could see if Semiu would take him in. Lesbians like cats, right?”
Zanka frowns. It’s not the first time Enjin’s offered to ask someone else to take Rudo, and honestly, it’s not a bad idea. To say Zanka’s dating life has been questionable, at best, ever since Rudo came into his life is an understatement. For some reason, the pesky little feline feels the need to chase away any guy who Zanka invites over. Even his friends, like Riyo and Enjin, struggle to keep Rudo from attacking them, and some of them (poor Follo, poor Tamsy) have stopped coming over altogether.
Even so, Zanka feels a strong sense of obligation toward Rudo. He’d been the one to find the little guy in an alley on his way home, drenched from the rain and looking completely miserable. Not to be dramatic, but Zanka can relate to feeling alone in the world, and with Rudo’s temperament, he’s pretty certain he’d been abandoned, left to fend for himself and labeled too difficult to love.
Zanka can’t give up on him now.
“Naw, no need to get Semiu involved.”
Enjin smiles an annoyingly knowing smile.
“You know, maybe you shouldn’t give up on Jabber yet. He does seem to really like you.”
Riyo’s got a point.
Rudo responds to that point by biting the shoelaces of the boots she’d left sitting at the door.
Zanka can feel his frustration forming into a headache. Hadn’t Rudo been at his scratching post seconds ago? When did he make it over to the door? And why are Riyo’s shoelaces his mortal enemy?
“Well the last guy also seemed to really like me... until Rudo puked in his shoes.”
“I mean, maybe wait to see if Rudo will puke in Jabber’s shoes?”
Zanka stares at Enjin as if the man just said he’s giving up smoking. Actually, him doing that would be more likely than Rudo not coughing up a hairball in Jabber’s presence. It seems to be his go-to move with Zanka’s boyfriends, like he’s marking his territory in the most disgusting way possible.
Still, there’s something to that wait and see mentality. He might as well enjoy his time with Jabber while he still can, right?
“So, you gonna invite me up?”
Apparently, while he still can is exactly one day, because Jabber’s already asking to go up to his apartment after their date. “Jabber. Let’s just relax and listen to some music for a bit.”
“Nuh uh.” Jabber stubbornly shakes his head, locs moving along with him, as if emphasizing his determination to go upstairs. “If we do that, we gonna end up making out in my car again.”
“Wasn’t aware that was a problem.”
“Of course it ain’t, but-”
“Good. So kiss me, Jabber.”
Jabber takes a good, long look at Zanka. The blue of his eyes, complete with long lashes enhanced with mascara. The way his lips part when he says the word kiss, a subtle gloss making them stand out more. The earrings he always wears, tassels that reach down to his shoulders. It’d be so tempting to give in, but a stronger force urges him not to sink into Zanka’s trap.
The force in question?
A cat.
More specifically, his boyfriend’s cat, a cat that Jabber hasn’t properly been introduced to yet. The only thing better than his own cat is the uncharted territory of a new cat. There’s nothing quite like spending time with a cat who isn’t your own.
“How about I kiss ya upstairs?”
Zanka feels a new kind of irritation unlock within him. Here he is, trying to protect his relationship, yet Jabber is set on ruining it. Maybe he should just be honest about the whole going upstairs thing. “Look, Jabber. I like ya. I like ya a lot, even. Which is why we canNOT go upstairs.”
“You that worried about your cat?”
“I just know what happens when folks meet him.”
“What, you think I’m gonna leave because you got a bad ass cat?” When Zanka doesn’t respond Jabber’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Wait. You seriously think I’m gonna leave over a cat?!”
Zanka shrugs, trying to act like the thought doesn’t bother him, “I mean... it’s happened before.”
“It has?!”
“Yeah, it has.”
Jabber shakes his head again, putting more umph into it this time. “Ain’t no fuckin’ way you had someone break up with ya over a cat.”
“Trust me, I ain’t makin’ it up.”
“Damn. You really dated some useless sacks of shit, huh?”
Zanka can feel his heart react to those words. There’s a warmth he’s feeling, a gentle, comforting caress offering him a taste of reassurance. To be honest, it feels good to hear someone outside his circle of friends using such despicable terms to describe his exes. Friends are obligated to take your side, which always gives Zanka space to blame himself for any perceived shortcomings. Rudo’s behavior is a reflection on him, and if that behavior scares people off, then it’s Zanka’s fault.
But Jabber clearly doesn’t see it that way.
Still, Zanka wouldn’t be Zanka if he didn’t pin it all on himself. “I ain’t good at disciplining pets, is all. If I were, I wouldn’t have so many ex-boyfriends.”
“Okay, two things,” then Jabber holds up two fingers. “I, for one, am glad ya got ex-boyfriends, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to swoop in and nab ya for myself.”
“I don’t think that’s how it happened...” Zanka doesn’t remember it as a swooping; it had been more of a mutual attraction situation where they both decided not to go through a whole “will they, won’t they” song and dance.
“Details, details,“ Jabber says, waving it off so he doesn’t get lost in the memory. It still lingers, though, the image of Zanka bluntly asking if they should exchange numbers putting a smile on his face. “Anyway, second thing. Breaking up with an absolute catch because of a cat is loser behavior. That’s on them, not you.”
“Ya say that now, but you ain’t meet Rudo yet.”
“Oh! Is that his name? That’s adorable.”
Zanka can feel a smile spreading across his face. The only thing better than being complimented or praised by someone you like is having that person show affection toward your cat. “You really set on meeting Rudo?”
“Hell yeah I am! You’re my man, yeah? That means meeting your cat.”
Against his better judgment, Zanka nods his head in agreement. He knows better. He’s seen the enthusiastic boyfriend have his self-esteem shredded by Rudo’s claws. He knows not to indulge Jabber, but it's so hard not to when he looks so wonderfully eager. “Fine, fine. We can go meet Rudo.”
“Great! Let’s go!”
The walk to Zanka’s apartment is not a quiet one. Jabber is busy bouncing from one foot to the other, clapping his hands at the thought of both seeing Zanka’s place and meeting his cat. Zanka wants to share in his excitement, but all he can think about is how fast Rudo had tried to attack Jabber last night — and that had been a brief exchange; what's going to happen with a full-on introduction? Zanka tries to think of all the worst-case scenarios. Rudo biting. Rudo scratching. Rudo attempting to treat the trinkets in Jabber’s hair as toys.
But this is what Jabber’s asking for, and Zanka’s all out of excuses.
Like a kid out past curfew, when they reach the apartment, Zanka carefully opens the door in an attempt to not summon Rudo. When they step inside, there’s no sign of him. He hadn’t been waiting by the door (good), and he’s not on the couch or nestled atop his cat tree. Zanka lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. If Rudo’s not out here, it means he’s in the bedroom, sleeping on Zanka’s pillow like he owns it. That gives Zanka the chance to make the first move-
“Yo Rudo! Where you at? I wanna meet ya!”
“What the hell are you doing?!” Zanka sounds very similar to an angry cat himself. “Keep your voice down!”
“What? I just wanna say hi.”
“I will go get him and bring him out here.”
“Naw. He already here.”
Zanka looks toward the hallway that leads to his bedroom. There, standing in the middle of the floor like some lost horror entity, is Rudo. Rudo, who doesn’t look fully awake, fur all over his head as if he’d been rolling around in his sleep. Rudo, who’s immediately on edge when he sees Jabber, suddenly very awake and very aware of the presence of someone he doesn’t know. He bares his fangs and hisses, loud enough to be heard from the front door.
“Rudo. Calm-”
“Hisssss.”
Zanka is startled when he hears a second hiss, but not from Rudo. He glances over to see Jabber, crouched down, grin wide and mischievous as he literally hisses at his cat.
“Jabber...?”
Rudo hisses again, on full alert, entire body arched and on edge.
Jabber hisses right back.
“Are you... hissing at my cat?”
“Yep. He started it.”
Zanka’s not sure how to respond to that. Clearly, Rudo isn’t either, his hissings fading into confused little meows.
“That all you got, lil’ man?” Jabber stands up and kicks his shoes off. “Thought you was gonna be a bigger threat than that.”
Zanka watches as Jabber walks over to the couch and sits down, stretching his body over as much space as he can. Zanka quietly takes his shoes off, too, not able to take his eyes off Rudo, who’s just... standing there, perplexed by the man known as Jabber Wonger.
That is until Zanka walks over and sits next to him.
As soon as Jabber wraps an arm around Zanka’s waist to pull him closer, it activates some protective sixth sense in Rudo. He doesn’t hiss this time, no, he growls, the sound too big for his small body.
Jabber raises an eyebrow, then chuckles. “Oh ho hooooo, well look at you.”
Rudo raises his backside in the air, wiggles it, and bolts forward toward Jabber. He latches onto his pant leg and digs his claws in deep, hissing so much that it sounds like little coughs.
“Rudo!”
“Relax, baby, he’s cool. We’re just getting to know each other.”
Zanka waits for Jabber to wince, or flinch, or show any indication of discomfort from Rudo, who has pulled his claws out of Jabber’s pants, only to stab them in again, hitting the exact same spot. Jabber does wince, but he doesn’t snap at Rudo or try to kick him away, doesn’t try to pull him by the back of the neck or curse his name.
Instead he laughs, actually laughs, and says, “Damn, lil’ man, you got some sharp ass claws! You use them to weed out the folks who ain’t worth Zan-Zan’s time, yeah?”
Rudo pulls his claws back and immediately scurries away as if Jabber just revealed a deep, dark secret. Jabber laughs again, and Zanka’s too stunned to do anything but watch Rudo crawl underneath the oversized chair.
“So that’s your bad ass cat, huh? He don’t seem that bad.”
Zanka wants to say something meaningful, something that conveys how it feels to be with someone who doesn’t call Rudo an ugly name because he scratches before he lets anyone get close, because he’s likely to bite an outstretched hand before allowing anyone to pet him.
Instead, what comes out is, “Bedroom. Now.”
Jabber grins, a goofy little giggle slipping past his lips. “Yes sir!”
Of course, getting to the bedroom is the ultimate test. As soon as they get up from the couch and start walking, Rudo darts out from under the chair and rushes to the bedroom, standing guard in front of it like he’s the size of a wild bear instead of a cat who can fit into a small box. Zanka rolls his eyes. “Rudo. Move.”
Rudo doesn’t.
“Rudo, come on.”
Still doesn’t.
Zanka sighs, picks Rudo up, steps into the room with Jabber, then promptly sets him down and closes the door in his face.
The meowing that follows is loud, long, and pitiful, meant to make Zanka feel bad for keeping Rudo out of the bedroom. “Rudo, knock it off!”
“It’s cool.”
“It ain’t cool, it’s annoying.”
“Naw man, it’s cool, honest. We’re gonna be a lot louder than a cat in like five minutes.”
Zanka doesn't hold back when he punches Jabber in his arm. When Jabber moans in response, Zanka hits him again. “Jabber!”
“Okay, okay. New idea.”
Then Jabber does the unthinkable.
He opens the bedroom door.
“Jabber, what-”
“If he wants to come in, let him in. He’s gonna get quite the show, though.”
“... you’re gonna have sex with me while Rudo’s in the room?”
Jabber shrugs. “It ain’t my fault that your cat’s a perv.”
Rudo looks at Jabber.
Jabber looks at Rudo.
Zanka looks down at the floor and wonders how he got here.
Rudo doesn’t blink.
Jabber doesn’t either.
A silent challenge, one to see who folds first.
Rudo’s made of feline pride that's been passed down generation after generation, a trait that every cat shares in every lifetime. But Jabber’s made of an unfiltered desire to get into Zanka’s bed. He’s dreamt of that bed, has wondered what it feels like compared to his own mattress with the thrift store sheets. Zanka’s fancier than him, probably cares about things like thread count, heck, he even makes his bed, unlike Jabber, who sees no point when he's going to get right back into bed at the end of the day.
Rudo still doesn’t blink.
Jabber still doesn’t either.
And then?
Rudo turns away and just... leaves?
“See? It ain’t so hard.”
“Right,” Zanka says, arms crossed as he looks at the now empty doorway. “Give it a minute.”
“Huh? Why a minute?”
The two are then greeted by the all too familiar sound of a cat coughing and gagging.
Zanka looks at Jabber.
Jabber looks at Zanka.
“No way,” Jabber says. “Ain’t no way he’s that petty.”
“Hope you ain’t too attached to your shoes,” is all Zanka says as they both hear the splatter of a hairball escaping Rudo’s throat. “Still wanna have sex with the door open?”
“You kidding? I wanna do it even more now! Gotta rub it in that fucker’s face!”
Zanka decides, right then and there, that he loves whatever the hell is wrong with Jabber.
After that fateful day, things are... certainly something.
At the very least, that something doesn’t involve a breakup, but it does involve a lot of hostile back and forths between Jabber and Rudo — though Jabber calls it fun, the hostility mostly coming from Rudo.
Zanka suspects it's the best he can ask for.
Whatever the case, it's enough for Jabber to come up with the brilliant idea of the two of them moving in together, cats included. Zanka, being a logical thinker, decides that they need to introduce their pets first before attempting any sort of living situation.
“Aw, but I wanna surprise him,” Jabber whines. “It’d be hilarious!”
Zanka knows that part of being a cat owner is tormenting your baby, but forcing your chill cat to live with an absolute goblin with no preparation? There’s not a word to properly convey that level of cruelty.
“Fine. Take away all my fun.”
So Zanka does, indeed, take away Jabber’s fun by scheduling a day for their cats to meet each other, versus using the extremely flawed, questionable method of shoulder shrug emoji that Jabber lives by. Jabber volunteers to bring his cat over because, quote, “He ain’t gonna care,” which is a lot easier than trying to get Rudo into a cat carrier.
When the day finally arrives, Jabber shows up with the most beaten-up carrier Zanka’s ever seen, the straps held together with duct tape and the color a vague memory of purple. As Jabber dramatically unzips the carrier to let him wander around Zanka’s place, he doesn’t move, doesn’t try to wander, doesn’t try to do anything.
Rudo, on the other hand, is immediately curious.
He approaches the carrier with reckless abandon, not trying to be careful at all. Why should he when it’s his apartment (or rather, Zanka’s, or whatever).
The growl that leaves the carrier is the kind of menace talked about with dangerous, untrained dogs. Zanka’s never heard a cat sound like that, but it doesn’t scare Rudo, who decides that anger is the best response to have toward an unknown cat.
Rudo hisses.
Jabber’s cat growls louder.
Rudo sticks his head into the carrier.
Jabber’s cat swipes at him.
“Daaaaaamn. Ain’t never seen him act like that before.”
“We should keep them away from each other.”
“You gonna let this lil’ dude show you up, Zodyl? Didn’t know you was such a punk.”
“Jabber!”
But the damage has been done. Jabber’s cat, Zodyl, steps out of the carrier. He’s a longhaired, grumpy-faced cat, with fur that’s a salt and pepper mix that makes him look older than he actually is. Rudo, to his credit, does look a little hesitant, but it's his apartment (Zanka’s apartment), and he can’t let this new cat intimidate him.
So Rudo hunches down, ready to attack.
Zodyl... does nothing, both incredibly bothered and perfectly unbothered at the same time.
“Jabber. We need to stop-”
“Naw, let them fight it out.”
Zanka realizes, in that moment, that Jabber isn’t some cat whisperer capable of dealing with the most unruly pet — Jabber’s an absolute menace who delights in seeing chaos unfold.
Before Rudo can even pounce at Zodyl, the older cat is on the move, jumping on Rudo and attempting to keep him pinned to the ground. Rudo wiggles out from underneath him, claws thrashing about, fur flying around the two of them. The grin on Jabber’s face is diabolical, complete with unhinged giggles and a look of joy typically reserved for receiving perfect gifts or going on a perfect date.
And there’s the truth of the situation.
Rudo was never going to be the problem when Zanka’s got a boyfriend named Jabber Wonger.