Sehun acts and expects to be treated as royalty.

Considering he is royalty, it makes sense.

As a prince, his day is filled with court appearances and mandated naps in the windows with the best vantage point overlooking the gardens or facing the rising or setting sun. A team of lesser cats tend to his grooming with punctuality and professionalism, setting his curls just so and his plumed tail tangle-free while keeping his clothing free of loose fur.

For some reason, his teacher and legal guardian, steward to the king before his untimely death, feels it’s necessary for Sehun to have some sort of companionship. Someone similar in age and male—because cavorting with young queens is frowned upon, even if he’s still considered a kitten—someone who can grow into the role of confidante and protector.

“If nothing else, Sehun, you need a friend. Someone your own age.” The nurses and teachers have gotten fed up with the bratty prince. He’s suspiciously obedient when there’s a trap waiting for an unsuspecting cat, and he always disappears when it’s sprung.

Some staff have children around his age, but they’re no fun and frankly aren’t worth the time of a pedigree.

So one pretty spring day, while Sehun is lounging on a hammock over some lovely scented flowers with the sunlight falling gently over him in dappled shapes, the steward introduces him to a young tom named Jongin.

Jongin is skinny and already tall, probably taller than Sehun, although he’s still growing, with a shy smile that nearly hides his copper eyes and black hair that turns smoky brown with dark spots in the sunlight.

A plain, common cat.

Sehun lifts his nose and flattens his ears, already deciding he doesn’t like him.

Jongin’s tail curls around his leg at the prince’s cool greeting, and Sehun’s glad.

“I know you two will get along,” the steward says, gaze hard on the prince. “Should you need anything, Jongin, just ask, and it shall be done.”

“Thank you, sir.” Jongin bows low at the waist, waiting until the older man takes his leave.

Sehun makes a point of rolling onto his side—

At least he tries, but it’s a difficult task on a free-swinging hammock, and it rocks, nearly upending him into the flowers. Jongin catches it and holds it steady. He seems to loom over the prince, trapping him in his shadow. Even without the sunlight, his eyes gleam gold with a light of their own.

“Careful, Highness.” The title holds something sweeter than poison but just as pleasant, and Sehun scowls at him, ears back.

He definitely doesn’t like Jongin. Everything about him is annoying.

Where Sehun’s coat is elegantly curled with smoky points at the ends of his ears and tail, Jongin’s coat is short and plain black.

A bad omen, whisper the elders. Black cats are bad luck. They say his mother was a wild panther who was cursed, so her fur turned black, and she passed on the cursed black fur to her cub.

It's silly superstition, according to Sehun's teachers, and they know everything, so he believes them.

Jongin is also quiet, shy. What kind of bad omen does his best to not act out? He just does as he's told and is simply boring. Sehun ignores him like his own shadow but comes to fully expect his constant, quiet presence.

Other staff come to like him, and anyone who remarks on his coat is reprimanded. No one but Sehun is allowed to critique, ridicule, or otherwise tease the cat.

Privilege of the prince.

It’s completely on accident that Sehun breaks his own promise to himself to treat Jongin as staff and nothing more. He’s lazily poring over text books in the library with Jongin, drowsy in the sunbeam from the garden window, and notices the other cat isn’t reading but has been doodling flowers in the margins.

He leans over, and Jongin flinches, dropping his hand to the page and covering it on instinct.

“Those are pretty.” Jongin smiles when praised, revealing dimples in his cheeks. “Don’t let the teacher see, though. He doesn’t like defacing books.”

The other boy shrugs and flips through the book to another page with swirls and curly-cues bordering the entire text. “It’ll just look like you’re improving your drawing.”

Sehun’s ears flatten, and his tail shakes with annoyance. He plucks the pencil from Jongin’s hand and writes the boy’s name in the book.

“Hey!” Jongin forces Sehun’s hand to scribble out the name and steals the pencil back to write Sehun’s name. It’s crooked and nothing at all like his handwriting, because Sehun tries to wrestle him for the pencil and pulls his tail.

Jongin flicks Sehun’s ear.

A teacher intervenes when he finds the two hissing and yowling on the floor, hair raised and cheeks smudged with graphite.

Somehow, it’s Sehun’s fault. He has to sit through a lecture about how his behavior was unbecoming of a prince, and that he needs to learn how to deal with things appropriately.

Maybe Jongin was reprimanded as well, because his tail is low and ears hidden when he goes to Sehun’s room and apologizes, but Sehun still has half a mind to ignore him and not accept the apology.

Except no one ever treated him so unlike a royal before. It was fun, even if it hurt a little and took a long, laborious grooming session to untangle his fur.

“I forgive you,” he states. Like a morning glory opening in the sun, Jongin’s posture changes, and he grins.

It’s some sort of turning point, and after that Sehun freely praises Jongin’s efficiency, thanks his obedience, and compliments his quick actions.

Definitely not to see his wide smile.

 

Jongin begins training with the guards, leaving Sehun by himself. He passes the time napping or browsing the garden. He could review his lessons, but it’s difficult to focus when he can hear the clash of weapons and thud of bodies hitting the ground in the sparring ring.

He can watch from one of the windows of the palace. The few times he went out to the field interrupted the natural flow and created too much nervous energy. Only Jongin was relaxed and bounded over to him to show off what he’d learned or to mimic something he’d seen.

From his distant vantage point, Sehun can see Jongin bounding after the older soldiers in training and mimicking moves he admires and wants to learn. He laughs a lot and joins their breaks in the shade, sitting close although sweaty and hot.

It’s just not right when his own supposed friend spends more time with someone else, freely sharing his smile and laughter.

Sehun frowns. Since when are they so friendly anyway? It’s literally Jongin’s job to be his companion, yet he never looks so relaxed.

“Jongin,” the cat’s ears perk, and he immediately looks up. “I need you. Come here.” He ignores the rolled eyes and waits impatiently for their goodbyes, bristling at the hand on Jongin’s arm.

But he approaches obediently, none the wiser. “Yes, your worshipfulness?”

“Who is that?”

“Who?” He looks back at the guard. “A guard. Obviously.”

“I didn’t know you were friends.”

“To be fair, you don’t know much about me.”

That hurts, and Sehun turns away. Jongin follows, sidling beside him rather than at his heels like he should.

“He’s nice and a really amazing guard; he’s been teaching me sparring techniques.” He makes a face along the lines of a pout. “I think everyone else is too afraid of you to potentially hurt me.”

“Why should they be afraid of me?” Sehun scoffs. “I don’t care what happens to you.” His tail flinches away but drifts back to hook beneath Jongin’s. “As long as you’re careful and aware, you shouldn’t get hurt at all, anyway. Only a useless guard gets injured during sparring practice.”

Jongin laughs. “That’s true!”

He seems to enjoy the lessons and sparring. A natural athlete, he advances quickly and always has stories to share with Sehun.

“See this?” Jongin holds up his arm, pulling it back to look at his own elbow, where a shallow, bright red line cuts alongside the bone. “I didn’t dodge fast enough and nearly lost my arm!”

“Does it hurt?”

“Nah. Not anymore, anyway.”

“It won’t scar.” Sehun has a scar on his right cheek; he’d fallen as a little kitten and would scratch at the itchy scab.

Jongin shrugs. “I don’t really care. It’s not like I’d see it.” He never cares for or takes pride in his appearance. Sehun bullies him to be more conscious when choosing outfits for the various official meetings and viewings and parties they attend, but Jongin will wear whatever he’s handed, so Sehun orders his tailors to make a suitable wardrobe for him once Jongin grows out of Sehun’s hand-me-downs.

There are a couple years where Jongin is taller than Sehun, and he finds ways to casually take advantage of it until Sehun triumphantly stands toe-to-toe with him and looks directly in his eyes.

Jongin just smiles.

As well as filling out—still skinny but more muscular, looking more like a panther—he’s more openly emotional. Nobody whispers about the bad luck he was supposed to bring, probably due in large part to nothing happening in all the years he’s been at the palace, and everyone has only praise for him.

He’s become reliable and trust-worthy, and the staff appreciates him keeping Sehun occupied, although there are plenty of times where he is just as mischievous.

There’s a pond full of fat, lazy fish in one of the gardens. Jongin will stare are them and try to catch one now and then. Sehun avoids it entirely. It’s a pretty feature, but he doesn’t like getting wet, and the smell is unpleasant, too.

Jongin crouches on the stone ledge of the pond, tail curling back and forth with a curious twitch every few curls. “How deep is this pond, anyway?”

Sehun leans over, peering at the colorful fish and lily pads. He’s never considered it before, but it doesn’t look deep. “I dunno.

“Why don’t you find out?” He catches Jongin’s lower back and pushes. The other cat flinches, tail thrashing as he windmills his arms to stay upright. Sehun is the closest thing to grab onto, and he catches the prince’s arm. In pulling himself upright, he pulls Sehun off balance, and the prince somersaults into the pond.

Lily pads ride the upset waves, sloshing up the edges of the stone. Spooked fish hurry to find shelter.

Much like a fish out of water, Sehun flops and thrashes until back on his feet.

Jongin, on the other hand, is weakly slapping the stone and laughing breathlessly.

“Oh, just drown already!” Sehun miserably wrings out his clothes.

“I’m sorry!” He doesn’t look sorry, but he does offer a hand to help Sehun, which he accepts and promptly tugs Jongin to the water.

This doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest, as he surfaces with sputtering laughter and merely pushes his hair from his face. “That was fun!” Suddenly silent, he watches the water with great interest and shouts, holding up a wriggling orange and white fish. “Look! I caught one!”

Sehun rolls his eyes. “Leave the poor thing alone.” It’s had a rough enough day. He just wants a bath to wash the stink of fish off and some clean, dry clothes. Shaking his feet and trying to ignore the way his sopping tail clings to him, he shuffles into the palace with Jongin jogging to catch up.

How anyone can enjoy being wet is a complete mystery, but Jongin makes it look good. He picks at his tunic, leaving awkward little peaks; Sehun doesn’t notice the rivulets of water running down his throat and chest.

Staff eye them in astonishment then dismay, noticing the trail of water he and Jongin leave behind.

Jongin runs a bath, dipping a hand in the water to check the temperature. He acknowledges the prince’s hovering nearby and raises his eyebrows.

“Still can’t undress yourself, Your Highnessness?”

“Why do something for myself when someone else can do it for me?” He holds out his arms expectantly. “It’s your fault, anyway.”

Part of him hopes Jongin leaves. He’s a brat like that, sometimes.

Other times, he rises to Sehun’s bait, and it’s always at the most awkward—even intimate—times.

“You pushed me first.” Jongin calmly unties the cords around Sehun’s waist and pushes the fabric off his shoulders. He’s methodical and doesn’t hurry. Cool air touches his bare flesh, drawing out goosebumps, and he shivers.

“Are you going to at least give me a robe?”

“What, I have to dress you, too?” Jongin’s tail curls merrily. He drops the clothing onto the basket for a maid to take away, turns off the water, and bullies Sehun to sit before dumping warm water over him. Sehun's sodden tail whacks his shins. "Oh, relax. You're already wet, anyway. I'll be quick." Jongin lathers a cloth with soap to get the worst of the stench off.

More embarrassed than annoyed, Sehun’s tail curls back around his leg. The wet hair tickles. He escapes into the tub as soon as he’s soap-free.

Jongin’s clothes land near the basket with a squelching plop and become the next person’s problem.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a bath, before you start complaining about how much I stink.” He scrubs his face and spits out soap. “Why? You never complained before. The tub is big enough, as long as you stop sprawling out like a starfish.”

They were kittens before. They were just a prince and his assigned companion fulfilling his duties. Now they’re young adults, and Jongin as a young adult is a dangerous thing.

Suitably clean and free of algae, Jongin splashes water at Sehun. “Move your legs, or I’m gonna sit on them.”

Sehun curls into himself, combing through his hair with his fingers. Jongin settles with a sigh and closes his eyes, perfectly at ease.

Preparations are being made for some dignitary’s visit. The harried sounds of hissing and yowling carry down the hall from the kitchens and laundry. He’s probably been told who the person is, but Sehun doesn’t care. His brother is the face of the family, anyway.

Jongin’s ears flip and rotate with every sound. They’re rarely still, a behavior from kittenhood. He once told Sehun that he was nervous before coming to the palace, because other kittens in his neighborhood would pick on him, so he was always alert.

“It’s nice to actually be able to relax and only worry about one bratty kitten.”

Not at all flattering, but Sehun lets it slide. Breaking in another companion takes too much work.

A fly buzzes by Sehun’s ear. He flinches, spilling water over the side of the tub. Jongin stands on his knees, swipes seemingly at nothing, and tosses the bug out the window before settling comfortably in the water again.

Show off.

“How can you enjoy water so much?”

“My mom loved swimming. I just learned from her, I guess.” He squints at his hand, turning it and curling his fingers with a frown. Slouching until his knees surface from the water, he blows bubbles in the water and stares at Sehun.

It’s an unsettling habit. Even years of exposure can’t prevent the blush from coloring his face and chest, and he flicks water at the other cat. “Stop that.”

Jongin blinks. “Does it really bother you so much?”

“Yes.”

“Then I won’t stop. Besides, you’re nice to look at.”

The heat from his blush could boil water but thankfully doesn’t.

Sehun stands and steps out of the tub, cascades of water pouring over the edge and onto the floor.

“Can you dress yourself, or do I need to come out?” Sehun pushes his head under water and grabs a robe. Jongin sputters but doesn’t retaliate. He lounges in the tub until the water cools.

A maid retrieves the soaked clothes; another a dry outfit for Jongin.

Sometimes, Sehun wonders what the palace staff really thinks of him. It’s a short train of thought. He knows he’ll never compare to his brother, and he’s quite happy not to. The constant scrutiny and mindfulness of manners and decorum will probably make his tail bald prematurely.

He’s happy in his own world. The palace grounds are vast with lots of gardens and trees that he and Jongin explore.

When Jongin’s not too busy training with the guards, and neglecting his duty to the prince, anyway.

“Stop chewing your nails.”

Jongin exhales sharply through his nose. “I can’t help it. It keeps hooking on things but won’t—” he tries to pull at it with his teeth— “come off.”

Sehun rolls his eyes and goes to the bathroom. He returns with a soft basket and sits on the chaise beside Jongin, holding out his hand. “Show me.”

“I can get it.”

“Give me your paw.” Jongin sets his hand in Sehun’s. The prince takes a wet brush and gently scrubs around the nail. “Your pads are rough,” he remarks, setting the brush aside for a metal pick.

“Sorry.” It’s not what he meant to say; the roughness isn’t unpleasant. He idly admires the tanned complexion against his own. Tan and pale. Rough and smooth. Common and royal. Their features are opposite in almost every way.

Purring breaks his musing. He glances up and notices Jongin watching their hands, as well.

With a firm tug, Sehun frees the sheath from Jongin’s finger. “There. Take better care of them, and this won’t happen.”

“Of course, my prince. ...Thank you.”

 

Sehun needs to be more careful.

A kittenhood crush is one thing, but he and Jongin are young adult tom cats. Feelings can get twisted and even dangerous. He has the physical size to be a threat to anyone interested in Jongin and the petulant, immature sense of ownership that he’d use it.

Smugly, he notices Jongin doesn’t play into anyone’s attempts at courtship.

“My duty and my life belong to the prince.”

A thrill zips down Sehun’s spine, overhearing that.

Then shame falls like a blanket over his shoulders. He doesn’t want to prevent the other cat’s happiness. Eventually, Sehun’s expected to find a suitable queen and continue the family line. It’s normal for Jongin to want something similar.

Even if Sehun does prefer it being just the two of them.

To Sehun, Jongin’s like catnip. Hard to resist. Both exciting and relaxing.

A birthday event for the late king drains Sehun’s energy. He masks it with quiet politeness, bowing and touching cheeks when prompted, otherwise following Jongin’s gentle direction on the small of his back.

When the milling crowds break apart from chatting and eating to dance, they go outside. Benches with soft cushions are dotted throughout, and Jongin leaves the prince on the plushest seat, returning with a dish of Sehun’s favorite catmint jelly.

He’s not hungry but eats some of it; Jongin finishes the rest. Somehow, he still looks energetic, although he’s been with Sehun the entire time and sat through the same speeches and greetings.

“Is it tomorrow, yet?” he sighs. Even his tail feels droopy.

“Soon.”

Sehun yawns. “Think I can just tell everyone I’m sick?”

“You’re the prince—little prince, but still a prince. No one is allowed to question you.” No one except Jongin, only because he’s immune to Sehun’s royal stink eye.

It’s tempting, but he does his best to not make his brother look bad, and Jongin seems to enjoy the varied company.

He gets to his feet and returns to the party, even accepting an invitation to dance. Unsurprisingly, his partner is Jongin, and he leads confidently. Sehun is content to follow.

Fingers skate over his throat, and he tilts his head back to welcome more of the pleasing touches. Nails gently rake over the soft flesh beneath his jaw. It stills when he breathes a throaty purr, and it’s confusing and irritating enough that he opens his eyes.

His return was just an illusion; he’d fallen victim to the catmint jelly and fallen asleep. His pillow shifts, and he sits up. “Excuse me…”

“No apologies necessary, Sehun.” Jongin rarely refers to him so softly. “You’re working hard; you’re tired. Use my shoulder whenever you’d like.”

Sehun skates around the edges of the party. Jongin, his ever-present shadow, cuts through the crowd to mingle with the guards and keep an eye on Sehun. Probably to watch him flounder socially, too.

Thankfully, he survives the party, and he ignores Jongin’s snickering on the way back to his room. He turns sharply—Jongin nearly walks into him—and closes the doors in his face. Jongin briefly claws the door and sighs a good night.

It’s the quickest he’s given up. Sehun peeks out the door a moment later; the hall is empty. He half expects Jongin to show up at one of his windows, but he doesn’t.

Changing for bed, he curses Jongin for ruining his mood. There is absolutely no reason for him to feel so anxious and upset. They can both do what they want without getting the other’s permission. He’s not going to stop Jongin for living his own life.

He can go make a fool of himself or get his heart broken, and Sehun won’t have a thing to say about it.

 

Sehun doesn’t handle anxiety well. Jongin pulls the prince’s tail from his hands numerous times before finally asking him what’s wrong and getting hissed at.

He keeps his sour mood for days, making the whole palace walk on eggshells. Too sudden of a noise or movement spurs staff to bolt down the hall.

It’s the longest he’s gone without talking to anyone. Even when he’d throw a hissy fit as a kitten, he’d talk through Jongin and only Jongin. He’s too mixed up to even do that, and it’s Jongin’s fault.

He stays in bed or in his room as much as possible, not expecting anything to ever change but wishing it would.

A cool night, heading into fall, he wakes up, just surfacing from sleep enough to be conscious of a blanket wrapped around his leg and the vast shadows of his room, dancing in the low firelight.

There’s nothing. Why did he wake up? He doesn’t need the toilet, and he’s not hungry or thirsty or too hot or cold. He’s quite content in his very comfortable bed, but something feels off.

A flash of yellow. Eyes.

Ice chills his veins, and he lies very still.

Looking right at him, the eyes blink, and a low growl slithers over the floor.

Sitting up with a shout, Sehun’s ears turn back and forth, trying to find any unfamiliar sound.

No one else is in his room.

He’s alone.

Footsteps pound closer, and the door is thrown open. Sehun clutches his blankets and stares wide-eyed at Jongin, a wraith in the light from the hall.

He looks at the prince, then stalks to the windows—tail lashing—throwing open the curtains and smacking a hand against the hanging tapestries. After looking under the furniture and around the room one more time, he turns to Sehun.

“There’s no one here.” His tone is almost accusatory. Moonlight throws shadows over Jongin’s body that crawl over his muscles as he moves.

“Did you expect someone?” Sehun hisses with a blush. “It was just a nightmare… Why are you here and not even dressed?”

Jongin scoffs and grabs Sehun’s own robe to throw around his shoulders. “If it pleases his highness, I was worried.” Tying the belt, he scowls around the room again. “I heard you scream—”

“I yelled.”

“—and came running, because I thought you might be in trouble.”

“My hero.” The darkness hides his pleased blush.

Jongin scowls at him, alertness melting into sleepiness that just makes him look pouty. “Next time you scream, I hope to sleep through it.” He goes to the door, dismissing the couple of servants who had followed him, and is about to leave himself when he hears a small sound. His ears flip back, and he turns. “Did you need something, Highness?” Kinder, he asks, “Something to help you sleep?”

“No, but… I don’t feel well right now. Please…” his ears fall, and he blushes, “stay. Just until I fall asleep.” As kittens, Sehun was afraid of the dark, and his room is really big, so he had Jongin sleep with him.

It’s been a long time since then.

Jongin sighs through his nose, tail rising like a banner, and Sehun is offended. Is a request from his prince really such an inconvenience? His life is Sehun’s, anyway, and he’s ready to argue as much when Jongin loosens the belt of the borrowed robe and makes a shooing motion with his hand as he lifts the blankets. “Move over.”

“What? I didn’t—I didn’t mean with me.” Sehun hisses when he’s sat on. Jongin lifts his hip for the prince to scoot over. The prince pulls his tail between them. “There’s a daybed—”

“By the window, which is freezing. If I’m sitting up to watch you sleep, I’m going to be comfortable doing it.”

What about Sehun’s comfort? So close, he can feel the heat radiating from Jongin’s body. He starts to sweat beneath his silk pajamas.

Jongin pushes the pillows from behind him, so there’s just one between his back and the wall. He hooks one ankle over the other and laces his fingers over his belly. “You can lie down. Whatever you saw before is gone now. I’ll be here, even if they do come back.”

Sehun lies on his side, back to Jongin.

He rolls onto his back.

Then he shifts onto his front.

“Hey, Highness.” Jongin raises his arm. “Like when we were kittens.”

“I’m not a kitten anymore,” Sehun mumbles.

“You’re anxious. Just come here, or you’ll never fall asleep, and I’ll have to stay up, too.”

Ears flat but nose high, Sehun shuffles so his head is pillowed on Jongin’s bicep. Jongin shifts his arm so it hooks over Sehun’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

It’s comfier than Sehun will admit.

He wakes up sometime during the night to the feeling of vibrations. Jongin is purring, lying on his side, and Sehun lies flush along his back. Old scars stand out against his skin, slicing the barely-there rosettes.

Fuzzy with sleep, Sehun ducks his face into Jongin’s soft black hair, tail whipping around to lie over their legs and easily falling back asleep.

Until something tickles his nose.

He swats at it, but it impudently returns. Barely opening his eyes, he sees Jongin leaning over him.

Jongin smiles, dropping his tail. Sunlight streams in through the windows, warming the blankets and highlighting Jongin’s skin. “Good morning, Highness. Feeling better?”

“Hungry.” A tray is produced and placed over Jongin’s lap. It’s too much work to sit up; Sehun leans against him to pick at the plate of fish.

He squints at Jongin. “Are you purring?”

It stops.

He doesn’t know what else to say. Something is telling him to apologize, but it feels like he’s losing, if he does. “I don’t feel like doing anything today.”

“Alright.” Jongin’s tail gently writhes. Sehun traps it beneath his hand, feeling it continue to twitch.

“Let’s go to the garden after breakfast.”

“Okay.”

Jongin helps him dress, not making any snide remarks for a change, and follows him outside. It’s cooler but not unpleasant. Some flowers are starting to wilt and drop their petals.

The hammock broke a long time ago, and Sehun had decided he wanted a big swing, instead. He sits on it and rocks over the balls of his feet. Jongin looks up into the branches of the tree with interest, probably deciding if he wants to climb it or not.

“This is where I met you,” Sehun recalls. “I decided to not like you,” he pouts, “but you know you ruined that?”

Jongin laughs. “Sorry, Highness.” He loses interest in the tree and stands on the swing, feet on either side of Sehun’s . “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t like you much, either, but you’re not so bad. Still bossy and full of yourself, but you wouldn’t be you, otherwise.”

A butterfly lands on a red bush, stepping tenderly over the blossoms. It settles for a drink, wings opening and closing and disinterested in anything else, even as Jongin bends his knees and leans back, leveraging the swing back and forth.

Sehun keeps his feet up off the ground and ducks his head to not fall back against Jongin’s crotch. “I apologize for being such a brat. I’ve just...been dealing with the idea of whether or not I can actually have something I want.”

“You’re the prince,” Jongin replies, squatting at the top of their arc to propel the swing even higher going forward. “What could you want that you don’t already have?”

“Someone I think I really care about.”

“What’s the problem with that? You think they don’t like you?”

“You cannot be that dense, Jongin,” Sehun states crossly. He looks over his shoulder at the other cat. “Don’t you know—” Jongin cuts him off with a peck on the lips.

The swing leisurely slows its swaying. Jongin sits beside Sehun and bumps their foreheads together.

“I know,” he says. “I just want to hear you say it.” Their tails catch and twist together.

Sehun draws his flushed cheeks along Jongin’s. “I like you a lot.” Jongin purrs, and Sehun responds with uproarious purrs of his own to form a duet.

---

a/n: Written for Domestic SeKai. (prompt no.CS003 Sehun is a rare breed, LaPerm cat hybrid. He's proud of his breed and intends to be treated like a royalty. One day, his owner brings back an annoying, very common cat hybrid for his companion. Now, they have to live together and Sehun isn't liking it for one bit.)

This took longer than anticipated, and it's not at all linear, but the important thing is it's done! Not sure how much I like it, because my brain's been having difficulty translating ideas into actual words, but I enjoyed writing it, regardless. The prompt was fun. The one thing I changed was rather than an owner bringing Jongin home, it's Sehun's guardian.

Sehun is a LaPerm, a similar but unrelated breed to Rexes. Jongin is a Bombay/panther, which would've been more import if I knew how to actually plan a story. Panthers/Jaguars are one of the few species that enjoy water and won't go out of their way to avoid it. The Bombay, like Jongin, has a cool exterior but is actually quite affectionate and lovey and has a very noisy purr.