valse des fleurs (888 w) | sehun/kitty!suho | hybrid au | for julia

It's a tradition, one that Joonmyun looks forward to every year. The first time they watched the national ballet perform The Nutcracker, Sehun had dismissed it as “too bourgeois,” but Joonmyun had been enchanted by the colorful costumes and the exuberant score.

“Can we watch it again? Please?” Joonmyun begs when December returns once more.

“Only if you’re a good boy,” Sehun sighs, and his catboy nods earnestly, thinking of every way he could possibly please his owner.

The issue is dropped, but during the following weeks, Joonmyun tries to cozy up to Sehun and remind him of the approaching performance weekend. His heart breaks a little every time Sehun seems to ignore his subtle hints. Joonmyun resigns to forgetting about the whole thing, until a couple nights before Christmas when a slim envelope appears beneath their tree.

“Go on, open it,” Sehun suggests. “An early present.”

“Is it money…” Joonmyun begins warily. If he receives cash, then he can buy tickets to the ballet himself.

“No? Why would a kitty like you need money?”

Joonmyun slides his finger along a crevice, tearing open the envelope. A pair of tickets flutter to the ground, and Joonmyun bends over eagerly to snatch them up.

“Is this…?” he asks with shining eyes.

“Sure is,” Sehun chuckles, tickling Joonmyun’s ears. He checks his watch and says, “You better get dressed quickly, because the show is tonight.”

Joonmyun stuffs the tickets into his pocket and scampers upstairs to his bedroom, flinging his closet open to find his tuxedo. Minutes later, he is dragging his owner into a taxi and reciting the address of the ballet theatre for the driver.

A couple minutes into the drive, Joonmyun unfastens his seatbelt to climb onto Sehun’s lap, nestling his face into the crook of his owner’s neck. He purrs contentedly as Sehun rubs his back.

“I know you don’t like The Nutcracker, but, thank you,” Joonmyun whispers. “I’m so excited, I can’t believe you remembered!”

“How could I forget,” Sehun murmurs absently. “I hope you’ll enjoy the show.”

“I know I will!” Joonmyun says confidently.

In fact, Sehun also finds himself enjoying the performance, or at least more than he thought he would. Although, it might be due to the champagne served to the balcony guests, which Joonmyun politely declines, allowing Sehun double portions.

“Wasn’t that great?” Joonmyun asks, nearly bouncing in excitement when the final curtains drop.

“Hmm? Mmm, yeah. I s’ppose,” Sehun slurs.

“Thank you so much!” Joonmyun hugs his owner tightly around the waist, clinging on to him as they wander outside to find a cab.

Joonmyun is still buzzing with joy as he holds Sehun’s hand on the ride back home. He hardly notices when Sehun dozes off against his shoulder. When he does hear Sehun’s light snores, Joonmyun giggles and nibbles playfully at Sehun’s earlobe.

“Come on, it’s time to go home now!” He nudges at Sehun’s ribs and helps him to his feet.

Leaning against Joonmyun for support, Sehun manages to stagger up their driveway and into the house, but barely. As soon as he comes within range of their living room, he makes a dizzy beeline for the sofa, collapsing onto the cushions and passing out immediately.

“Sehun?” Joonmyun asks, shaking his owner by the shoulder. “Wake up so you can go to bed and then sleep!”

He doesn’t stir, so Joonmyun tries every tactic he knows involving begging and pouting, but it’s no use because Sehun is dead to the world. He even tries sitting on top of Sehun and pounding his chest with his dainty fists, but not too hard because Joonmyun doesn’t want to risk hurting him.

Sehun has to bite his lip to suppress his laughter, especially when Joonmyun grumbles, “I’m going to get you into bed, mister, even if I have to carry you myself.”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Sehun feels Joonmyun’s arms hooking around his shoulders and knees. He hears Joonmyun’s heavy pants and then a wheezing groan as Sehun is lifted from the sofa. But before he knows it, Sehun falling to the ground too quickly for him to process that it’s happening. He winds up sprawled on the floor, cushioned by his catboy.

Joonmyun lets out a tiny whimper, more out of frustration than pain. He pulls himself to his feet again and dusts off his knees. And then he grabs Sehun by the ankles and pulls, determined to get Sehun into bed by whatever means possible, even if it means dragging him across the floor and up the stairs.

“Hey, don’t wrinkle my tux,” Sehun laughs, and Joonmyun drops him in surprise.

“Were you awake this whole time?” Joonmyun cries, outraged.

“Not entirely, but long enough. Did you really think you could carry me all the way to bed?” he teases.

Joonmyun huffs and stomps off, blushing in embarrassment. Sehun chases after him and scoops him up in his arms.

“You better not drop me,” Joonmyun frowns.

“I won’t,” Sehun promises. “Are you okay? I hope you didn’t get hurt when I fell on top of you.”

“I’m okay,” Joonmyun mumbles. “Are you?”

“I’m alright, but a kiss might make it better.”

Joonmyun wrinkles his nose, but he wraps his arms around Sehun’s neck and leans up to kiss his forehead.

“Better?” he asks seriously.

“I think I’ll make it.”