It's a Friday night, and Kibum smells like an abscess. 

"Hi, um. I think my cat is sick," a quiet voice from the lobby says.

He hears it only in passing, stripping off his gloves as he walks. The band-aid on his left hand is pulled uncomfortably at the removal, a memento from a cranky Yorkshire that didn't like the smell of his skincare routine. It's a nuisance, pulling at his skin whenever he flexes his hand, so he yanks it off; he grimaces as he tries to spy through the hinge of the lobby door. The clock behind him ticks away, and if he can just avoid this one patient, then he can call it a night successfully.

It's already ten to 6; there's a bus at 6:05; and it'll take him four minutes to pack up and three minutes to get to the stop down the street, so if he can make it to the locker room, then he's free.

The fact that he's not moving into action is something that crosses his tired, frustrated mind too late, the exact moment when the door swings open. 

Minho sits in his rolly chair, grinning, one long leg extended to keep the door open. The unseen pet parent is likely attributing his sunny disposition to genuine customer service. Kibum knows it's glee at having clearly caught him sneaking out. 

"Consultation in room 3, Doctor Kim," he says, walking his fingers along the arm of his chair, freezing, and then turning them around with a distinct, dejected slump to his wrist. 

He nods as evenly as possible while exposed, but immediately lets his face fall into disgruntlement when Minho scoots backwards and releases the door to shut. He tries to calculate the likelihood that this patient will end up damaging his person too as he scrubs up. 

Judging by the yowl (followed by a soft, indiscernible murmur of admonition) that's coming from room 3, he generously gives the odds as 2 to 1. 

"It's not that bad," Jinki says in a very reasonable, level tone.

The occupant of the carrier looks back at him. 

"It'll be over quick," he promises. He tugs his sleeves over his hands and reaches in, prompting a loud, angry whine just as the door opens. 

"Good evening, Mr. Lee and..." perfectly formed eyebrows arch up, with a hint of question in the dark eyes below, and Jinki can't help but fidget. "Joyonghan?"

The cat in question, perhaps sensing Jinki's nerves, yowls crankily in affirmation. 

The doctor - Kim, going by the nametag clipped just above his pocket - smiles slightly. 

"I'll take that as a yes. Is he okay to come out?" he asks, looking expectantly at the carrier. Jinki nod quickly and pulls again at the material of his shirt over the backs of his hands protectively to reach in.  

Joyonghan hisses and bats at him. 

Stop it, Jinki makes a go of telepathy, because there's always a chance. You're embarrassing us both and you know this is for your own good. 

The telepathy fails resoundingly - or it works, but Joyonghan rejects his offer, Jinki considers them both equally likely - but he succeeds in extracting the upset cat regardless, his claws bared and batting in the distance Jinki's careful to leave open. 

Doctor Kim looks slightly resigned as Jinki places him on the table, but he hopes a wide smile can help make up for the ground Joyonghan's already lost him.  

Kibum presents himself as someone who appreciates all animals, domesticated and otherwise, and it is the honest truth. Otherwise, he would never have gone to veterinary school.

But this cat - a neutered adult male Scottish fold, with a black and orange tortoiseshell pattern of fur - is eyeballing him like he wants him dead, or at least mildly damaged. He blinks slowly and gazes around the room, as though calculating how much damage he can cause and lets out a prolonged, unhappy mrow. 

The primary question on Kibum's mind is how this cat, with that noise, got a name that meant "quiet". 

Judging by the smile on his owner's face, he has an inkling it's meant to be funny. 

Keeping a neutral expression on his face in contrast, he looks over the cat with a critical, searching eye. He turns to the owner after finishing, trying to project mild curiosity, instead of impatience.  

"What brings you two in tonight?"

The other man's expression turns from slightly anxious and soft, to anxious with a sharper edge of awkwardness, and reaches inside the carrier to extract a clear ziploc. 

In Kibum's experience, it takes a special kind of person to pay attention their pet's stool enough to tell it's abnormal. It's something else entirely to stow said example up carefully in a sealable bag, and then label it - "Joyonghan, 9/4 - 9AM". To be frank, he's more impressed than anything and an appreciative, quiet laugh escapes him as he extends his hand. 

Mr. Lee is careful with it pinched between his fingers, letting Kibum take it when he's ready instead of just slapping it towards him. He has had too many fluids dripped, spewed, and - on one memorable occasion, actively thrown - at or on his person to be too squeamish, but the gesture, for Kibum, says a lot about a person. Like how they would treat waitstaff, it's an unexpected courtesy that he would normally encourage. In this particular set of circumstances, it's actively charming. 

"That's very thorough of you," he comments, placing the baggie on the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mr. Lee visibly relax. Joyonghan, too, has calmed down enough to only be eyeing Kibum suspiciously, so he lets his hand fall closer to his head in a cautious test of boundaries as he leans back against the table. It goes unmauled, so he congratulates himself silently on the success. 

"Thank you," Mr. Lee says, relief obvious in his voice. 

"I should be thanking you," he says, aware of Joyonghan sniffing at his hand cautiously. "You just saved us some steps. Now, I see it's a lighter color than we normally like to see..."

He moves into the typical thread of questions - Joyonghan's diet, other animals in the home, if he's let outside regularly, habits, etc. (mid-market dry food, none, only with supervision, and "he watches TV with my roommate sometimes?...oh, you meant cat habits. Habits of his...as a cat."). Mr. Lee answers them all promptly and thoughtfully - if a bit absentmindedly on the last one - so Kibum mentally gives him a few more points. If all his patients' parents were like this, he'd be a much happier person at work.  

After a bit of negotiation, Mr. Lee manages to coax Joyonghan onto the scale for the customary reading as well, and Kibum marks him down as within a healthy range.

The routine comes to an end, and he surreptitiously slides his eyes up to the clock reading 6:15.  

"We'll run this sample through a few tests over the weekend just to be safe, but I think only a close eye on him is needed for the time being. It's likely that he ate something that he shouldn't have, so check on him as soon as you get home from work each day and look for any signs that he may be defecating or urinating in abnormal places. Since this is the first time you've noticed something, he probably got his way into something you don't normally keep in the house."

Mr. Lee is nodding, clearly paying close attention - or his best approximation of it around Joyonghan's squirming in his arms. He at the cat's belly, rocking him slightly in his bared arms. He had rolled up his sleeves before scooping Joyonghan up earlier, and Kibum doesn't think he even noticed. He has a few scratches on them, pale and healed over neatly, disrupting an even tan. His fingers brush against the ripple pattern of orange and black almost hypnotically.

With a start, Kibum realizes he's gone off the rails mentally, but to his relief Mr. Lee's expression it hasn't spilled into his spiel. Or, perhaps, he wasn't paying attention either. 

"And you can schedule his follow-up with Minho at reception," a thought strikes him belatedly, fueled by the memory of the man's grin, and he leans in. "Cats really take to him. You should see if his magic works for this boy here."

He caps his invitation with the risky move of reaching out to pat Joyonghan's head, and Mr. Lee's eyes go wide, but to his satisfaction the cat assents to his fingers gently between his ears.

His unwitting accomplice is staring down at Kibum's hand, shock evident on his face, but it quickly transforms into clear affection as he cuddles Joyonghan close to his chest. Kibum's hand slips and bumps against him, so he withdraws with an apology and a minor pang of guilt for taking advantage of Mr. Lee's clearly good nature. But, given that he is on track for the 6:38 bus - the one with the driver who takes turns too fast and Kibum always bangs his head - it's not enough to stop him from getting some minor revenge.  

His arms full, Mr. Lee somehow still manages to execute a half-bow before leaving. 

"Thank you, doctor. Have a good night!" 

"You too, Mr. Lee."

The TV is blaring so loud Jinki can hear it as he walks up the hallway to their apartment, but when he opens the door Taemin greets him with his voice raised over it, instead of turning it down. He slips off his shoes as he raises his hand back in greeting. Shouting back would condone such behavior, in his opinion. 

"So your vet is hot, huh?" Taemin asks.

"What?" Jinki laughs, taken aback. He bends down to release an antsy Joyonghan from his carrier. 

Taemin holds up his phone silently, its screen betraying a series of messages. 

@onewyaong:  the doctor thinks he ate something bad =(

@onewyaong: on my way back. did you leave out something? did you buy anything new this week??

@onewyaong: we have another appt next wed

@taeinthemirror: did he enjoy the

@onewyaong: it was helpful =|

@onewyaong: we need more baggies too

@onewyaong: ok leaving now. is there food? 

@taeinthemirror: no

@onewyaong: almost home. it went really well

@onewyaong: he was nice

@onewyaong: joyonghan liked him

The look on Taemin 's face is so patently disbelieving Jinki's insulted.

"Joyonghan doesn't even like you," he says. 

"That's not true," Jinki murmurs from where he's kneeling, letting Joyonghan nuzzle into his hand with only intermittent nips to the sensitive skin between his fingers. "He was really good today. He let Dr. Kim weigh him. And he pet him."

"Marry him, hyung," he retorts. He lifts himself up into an arch, craning his head backwards so he can look Jinki in the face. It's disturbingly flexible. "You're not denying. You are interested. Did you confess before or after the ?"

Jinki cups his hands around Joyonghan's belly and pulls him up on his hind legs, puppeting his front paws as a defense to Taemin's gaze. His retort is half-muffled by the furry barrier. "I'm not going to ask him out."

"You will." He doesn't say "duh", but Jinki reads it in his tone clearly enough. 

He picks up the carrier and takes it to the closet, tucking it into his shelf. Taemin doesn't know what he's talking about - about Joyonghan or Doctor Kim. He knows what he saw at the office. He wishes he had caught it on video, but Taemin should believe him regardless. It's not like Joyonghan never lets anyone pet him; he's just discerning about who - and Doctor Kim made the cut.

He has to admit to himself, that Jinki is glad that Joyonghan approves of Doctor Kim. He seemed like a genuine person to Jinki, honest, but professional, but not cold. By definition the other vets he's seen have been obliged to tend to Joyonghan, but it's always been with a detachment that made Jinki uneasy. He has his theory that that's why Joyonghan didn't like any of them; he can sense that they've already dismissed him as a lost, grumpy cause, and Jinki as a naive sap. 

Doctor Kim was better about it. He didn't make Jinki feel like an imposition, even though he knows as a walk-in, with an angry cat, he must have been. He also didn't run away from him when he pulled out a bag of cat poop with a date and time label, actually thanking him. And repeatedly making the carefully paced effort to placate Joyonghan and let him know everything was OK. It makes Jinki feel warm and grateful for the recommendation Jonghyun provided. 

"'s really a fifth date kind of thing," Taemin continues to muse out loud from the living room. 

He thinks their last vet would have dismissed him as a crazy owner, but Doctor Kim took him seriously, with not even a hint of derision in the smooth, even tone of his voice. The way he had lifted his eyebrows every time has asked a question is drifting unhurriedly across his memories, and he swallows down some kind of response. 

His thoughts are headed down a path he did not intend in the slightest, he realizes in a rush, and curses his roommate. The closet door gets closed more firmly than necessary.  

"You can do that to a headboard too, you know!" Taemin shouts from the living room. 

Kibum wouldn't call himself vindictive, exactly - but when Minho gets home with a fresh set of scratches peeking out beneath the cuff of his coat, a small smirk can't help but curl up as he pretends not to see, instead opting to continue watching late night TV. 

"You didn't tell me this place services demons," he complains, hanging up his backpack near the door. "I feel like that should have been in the paperwork."

"It was," he says, sipping calmly at his tea. "And anything more than that you gave up when you put me in the room with said demon cat."

He scooches to make reluctant room on the couch. His favorite, homey comforter is tugged up to his chin, the lumps of his hands using it as a protective surface from the warm mug balanced precisely in his lap. 

Minho scoffs and sits down next to him; the blanket is tugged in his customary unsubtle attempt at theft. Kibum's dogs, lazing on the beds, look at the scene suspiciously. 

"Shouldn't have tried to duck out like that. Or at least don't just stand there gaping at the door."

"I'll do it better next time," he shoots back, his words snapping and bite. The slow usurpation of his comfort set-up itches at his raw nerves. Even with Minho next to him, the couch still feels empty. 

The other man looks sideways at him. 

"Ah, Kibum, what's wrong?" his roommate trades in his pulling of the blanket to tug at Kibum instead. Clutching his mug protectively, Kibum finds himself being snuggled insistently, grumpiness exacerbated at being recognized. 

A Minho on the scent of a friend in trouble is the most dangerous Minho of them all.  

"Just a long day," he says the partial truth easily enough. "Let me see what Joyonghan did to you."

He pulls out his hand and raises his eyebrow questioningly. 

"Please tell me you rinsed this out."

Minho rolls his eyes, but Kibum knows better than to take it seriously. 

"I work the front desk of an animal clinic, in case you forgot. I know what to do."

When Kibum's mouth twists, perfectly annoyed, Minho lets out a put-upon sigh. 

"Yes, Doctor Kim."

"Good," he pats it down gently, feeling a small sliver of guilt when Minho winces. Being as he's still somewhat new at the clinic, and mostly shielded at his desk, and with a predilection for touching soft, fuzzy things, Minho operates as though all animals are labradors. He's also all soft-hearted, and charming, and it's what made him recommend his friend for the job when it came up. 

It leads him to retroactively suspect the groundwork with Mr. Lee wasn't needed. Minho probably still would have made the effort to pet the cat, assuming confidently that Kibum had fixed whatever was making it upset when they first arrived. 

The small sliver expands uncomfortably. 

"I'm surprised th-," Minho begins to comment just as he decides to make a game attempt at erasing his guilt. 

"Want some tea?" 

Minho nods, and Kibum carefully extracts himself from the mix of limbs and blanket and heads for the small, tidy kitchen they share. The slightly taller man follows him, his bare feet shuffling along the tile like a little kid. Their shelves are getting bare, but he has enough to start another batch of plum tea and begins quietly working over it, glad for something to fiddle over. One of his dogs follows them, drawn by even the gentle domestic clattering.

"You don't usually remember names," Minho says, after a moment of watching him putter comfortably between the stove and the shelves. It takes Kibum a second to realize he's finishing his shortchanged thought. "I thought you tried to leave that stuff from work."

Kibum makes a face.

"You heard it in the lobby, right? And from the lobby? Who names a cat like that 'Quiet'?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he spots Minho shrugging and jumping up to sit on the counter, tossing an apple back and forth between his hands. He pats himself on the back mentally for shutting down the conversation -

"Such a corny name, anyway." 

- before re-engaging it himself. The thought had exited his mouth without prior approval. 

"Mmm," Minho says around a mouthful of fruit. 

"It'd be like naming a Dalmatian 'Stripes'. Or a guinea pig 'Monster Truck'. Seriously, Mr. Lee was my age. What's he doing, making uncle jokes like that?" he finishes with a laugh, wincing at how weak it sounds.

 Minho takes the proffered cup with a weird expression, one that makes Kibum feel like he should whack it off his face. But, seeing as how he's already done physical damage through a proxy cat today, he takes a sip and stares right back instead. 

"His name is Jinki," Minho finally says in response. "He's older than you. Kim Jonghyun recommended us to him."

 "Jonghyun...Roo?" he replies, surprised. "He's never mentioned Jinki before."

"Why would he mention a friend to his vet?" Minho asks.

"Jonghyun's my friend," Kibum mumbles defensively around the lip of his mug.

Minho is still eyeballing him. He turns away quickly, sipping desperately at his tea. 

"Oh. Oh, wow."

Kibum ignores his realization.

"Oooooooooooh."

Kibum heads straight to his room and slams the door in Minho's face. His phone promptly buzzes. 

@minhoooooal: are you working on wednesday kibummie

@minhoooooal: jinki will be there~ 

@minhoooooal: he was so happy that you pet his cat you know

@minhoooooal: maybe he wants some of that action for himself~

Kibum marches back to his door and listens for a moment. Tugging it open abruptly, he steps aside Minho's stumble into the room, phone loose in his hand. With his attention broken, and dodging both of the dogs drawn by the raised voices, Kibum snatches it from him and marches past him into the bathroom, flips open the toilet lid, and holds. 

The reversal of the expression on Minho's face, from playful teasing, to horror, is just enough to get past the roaring in Kibum's ears and register amusement. Still - 

"What I want to do with my life, and who that involves, is mine," he says as icily as he can manage.

"Right."

His grip loosens slightly, and Minho's eyes bulge. 

"And if something were to happen, with anyone, at a time that is mutually beneficial to both of us, that's my business."

"Yep."

"And you are in no way going to encourage, discourage, or interfere with that process without my express permission."

There's sweat on Minho's lip, he notes with satisfaction. The other man nods.

Kibum considers him, and, with a swift move, tosses his phone back. 

"Your tea is getting cold, dummy, and mine too. Let's go reheat," he says as he heads back to their abandoned cups beside the stove. 

Despite their standoff and Minho's promises, there's still a hanging question in the air. It makes the kitchen feel oddly heavy, like they left Kibum's nascent crush bored and alone and it's itching for a confrontation. Kibum won't give it the satisfaction of attention or conversation, pushing out the mental image of Jinki, excited and describing Kibum's successful petting to Minho. 

When he's good and ready, he'll squirrel all the information he wants about Lee Jinki out of Minho and Jonghyun, and not a moment sooner. 

It's only a couple hours later, after Minho yawns noisily and heads to bed, that he pulls out his phone and examines the work calendar for Wednesday. 

"Grmf," Jinki says.

Joyonghan's paws are pressed firmly against his mouth.  Cautiously, and with due respect to the unsheathed claws less than an inch from his lips, he pulls the right one away so he can try again. 

"Get off."

Joyonghan meows at his plea dismissively, so Jinki takes the risk of reaching for the other paw and firmly moves it away from his face, at least.

Greenish-brown eyes stare him down until he completes the relocation efforts and picks up his phone in a bout of morbid curiosity. 

To Jinki's extreme horror, 4:00 AM is displayed in bright white characters. He has a notification, even - a message; and since he went to bed message-free at midnight, he knows it can only really be one person.

@jjongd: hi jinki ^^

While he's distracted on his phone, Joyonghan has moved his attention southwards, and has begun kneading his paws against Jinki's thighs, a familiar pattern he instinctively adjusts his position for. 

@onewyaong: morning

@jjongd: ur awake! good morning!

@jjongd: wait y are u awake? r u feeling ok?

@onewyaong: i'm fine. joyonghan woke me up.

Joyonghan finishes up his kneading, moving to rub his head against his leg, pushing Jinki to turn onto his side. Still squinting at the screen, he begins to type but a new message comes in before he can send. Jonghyun always did type faster than he did, he remembers, bleary-eyed as he reads, deleting his half-written message.

@jjongd: what was it this time

@jjongd: did he bite your nose again

@onewyaong: no paws to mouth

@jjongd: a menace!!

@jjongd: is he ok

A fond, sleepy smile crosses his face. The question is a much better gesture than most people, especially considering the last time Jonghyun came over with Roo, his cat had batted the little dachshund's nose and made her quiver in Jonghyun's arms for the rest of the night. Jinki still feels kind of guilty about it, even though he knows that the dog would have ended up being cuddled all night regardless. 

@onewyaong: he was a little cranky bc he was scared but doing better now

@jjongd: good ^^ did he try to eat key

His eyebrows furrow together as he re-reads. 

@onewyaong: no he hasn't eaten any keys

 @jjongd: no, Key. Kibum. Doctor Kim?? 

Joyonghan leaps above him and curls against his chest, and he noses gently at the soft fur behind his ears. A hot flush sweeps over his face, embarrassment at how dumb his response looks, and with thinking of Doctor Kim in the dead of night, in his bed. 

"I'm not doing anything wrong," he mutters, and Joyonghan rightfully ignores him. 

@jjongd: it's his nickname sorry ^

@onewyaong: np. he was helpful. joyonghan even let him pet him

@jjongd: no way!!

@jjongd: that's great i'm really happy he worked out

@jjongd: maybe he could help you out even more ;) wdyt

Jinki closes his eyes in frustration. He is going to murder Taemin. He's going to put Joyonghan on his face for merciless application of paws to mouth.

Except - then he'll probably freak out and Joyonghan will scratch him and Taemin will throw him off the bed. And he'll have to take care of both of them. And they'll be hurt. 

He schools his expression into fierce resolve as he changes his plan of action. He's going to inconvenience Taemin, badly. 

 While he's pondering, his phone lights up again.

@jjongd: he's really good! 

"What does that even mean?" he asks Joyonghan, his mind already spiralling over Jonghyun's last message. He was really good at animal care, he thinks. That had to be it. Jonghyun has Roo; Roo has been to the office and, as her owner, Jonghyun would have a qualified assessment of Kib- Doctor Kim. 

After a brief moment of consideration, he allows generously that Jonghyun could have been saying that he is really good at being a person.

Jinki grabs his phone to put an end to this. 

@onewyaong: i'm going back to sleep now

His mouth is weirdly dry as he settles onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. Joyonghan leaps onto his chest and curls up.

He remembers the exact, precise curve of Kibum's lips when he smiled. He has to relent, in the face of such a memory,  that Kibum is definitely good at being a person. He...inhibits his body well. Jonghyun had been 100% accurate on that part. 

A subsequent, more unpleasant thought occurs as consequence of that - that Jonghyun and Kibum are involved, and Jonghyun was, for reasons Jinki doesn't understand, implying Kibum's quality in other areas to his friend, who he had just heard (inaccurately, he gives telepathy another go as he directs that towards Taemin) was interested in his boyfriend. 

That would be improbable, cruel, and supremely out of character for someone like Jonghyun, but it's the option that's making Jinki's stomach twist in anxiety the most, and therefore it's the option that he can't quite discount. 

He forces himself to lay out what has happened. 

• Jonghyun recommends a vet to Jinki, a vet he apparently knows well enough to refer to him by his nickname
• (said nickname is cute)
• (said vet is cute)
• Taemin thinks that Jinki is interested in said (cute) vet
• Taemin texts Jonghyun his misguided conclusion
• Jonghyun texts Jinki with a statement about how "good" said (cute) vet is

He hugs Joyonghan a little closer, ignoring the low note of displeasure as he moves onto the next mental list, this one far more daunting: what could happen next. 

• Jonghyun could inform Kibum of Jinki's presumptive interest
• Kibum could bring it up on Wednesday 
• He, and Joyonghan, could be forced to find a new vet
• He could - he will - be profoundly embarrassed.

The last item, despite his best efforts, seems a complete foregone conclusion, given the state of his stomach. He feels embarrassed thinking about it, in the dark pre-dawn of his room, and imagining Kibum addressing it in any capacity is mortifying. 

There's a small, insistent voice in the back of his mind, though, and it feels absurdly hopeful. 

Since Jonghyun knew Kibum well enough to recommend him, they're probably friendly, if not friends, the voice reasons. He would know if his friend would be single and interested. 

But - Jinki objects. You don't go to the vet to get a date. It's his place of work, and it would be inappropriate for me to - to hit on him. I would be putting him in a very awkward situation. And even if he were interested, doesn't mean I'm interested.

You also know Jonghyun, the voice continues evenly. He was most likely talking about Kibum's high quality as a doctor, which you don't disagree with. Jonghyun has never purposefully put you in a situation where you could be hurt or embarrassed. 

Yeah...

He wouldn't tell Kibum because that would be embarrassing, the voice says, very reasonably. Also, denial is immature. 

Jinki hates this voice. He doesn't know where it came from, frankly, and if being awake at 4AM - he casts another look at his phone - 4:18AM involves being condescended to by his own subconsciousness, he swears it off entirely. 

It seems likely that he's interested in you too. He was looking at your arms.

That is quite enough, in Jinki's opinion. He gets up to go to the bathroom, unsettling Joyonghan and ensuring he'll pay for that later, but Jinki can't bring himself to care. He's going to have to do something desperate to get that voice out of his head. 

@onewyaong: can't sleep. go to the gym w/ me?

@jjongd: sure see u there!