manmademartyr

He tries to lure her out with his half-eaten protein bar that he probably shouldn't have had in his pocket, but that earns him another hiss. Which means, ten minutes later, he's sitting cross-legged on asphalt.

He didn't think he'd be spending his precious time after work trying to explain to a feral, asshole kitten that she's gonna be crushed if she remains behind his tire...but he manages to call it a success.

Cause twenty minutes later, the kitten's wrapped inside his jacket.

Robby tells himself, driving home, that it's all just temporary. He'll bring it back to his place cause all the shelters and humane societies in his area are already closed. Most likely. He doesn't have time to check Google.

...He should take her to the vet, though. They're still open. Just in case. Yeah. He ends up driving her to the vet. It.

During the check-up, the vet hands Robby a list. It includes information and guidance about food, litter, vaccinations, deworming, and follow-up appointments. It's a pamphlet for new cat owners.

He isn't a new cat owner. But what? He doesn't have to explain himself to a woman who's just trying to do her job.

"Thanks, but this is just temporary. I'm sure whoever adopts her will...do a much better job than I could."

Robby stares down at the kitten, who has fallen asleep in the crook of his arm. He's smiling until he realizes the vet is also smiling like she couldn't possibly believe him.

Why is she doing that?

He names her Bugsy. Robby thinks it fits cause God, does she fucking bug him. It works as a good placeholder.

You don't understand. She's very intrusive. The guy knew cats usually are, but she keeps appearing in places he swears she couldn't possibly reach. He doesn't know how the hell she got into the pantry. Or behind his bed. Or the bookshelf.

"Hey, get out of there, Bugsy. No. No---no, Bugsy, that's an electrical cord. Stop biting it!"

Robby has no choice but to put the name in her veterinary file. And you know...he's not a bad cat dad. That's what cat owners call themselves, right? Cat dad, cat mom. Fun!

He tries installing a window hammock badly, cause maybe that will distract her from tearing at his walls. He buys the expensive wet food cause he can. If you can, you should.

He watches a couple of videos on feline body language cause Bugsy's tail keeps sticking upright and trembling when he comes home. He doesn't know if that's neurological. But it isn't.

Apparently, it just means she's happy to see him.

...Which, okay. That's cute, but Robby tries not to react emotionally to that information.

He doesn't exactly need to get extremely attached to an animal or anything. Makes it harder to get mad at her when she pees on the couch. Cat pee smells worse than he thought it would!

...He just lets Bugsy sleep on his chest every evening cause it helps her calm down. It's honorable, really. She kneads his sternum with painfully sharp paws and purrs directly beneath his chin. Very loud.

Hard to fall asleep.

Robby knows what people will think if they find out about this, so he tells nobody. But again, Bugsy's intrusive.

Bugsy climbs into his fucking work bag.

And haaaaaa, Robby only realizes that once he enters the Pitt and hears a muffled meow in the front pocket.

Dana finds him wrestling her with his hands. She's trying to chew on another protein bar. He got her addicted.

"What the hell is that?"

Robby sighs. "Dana, I'm so sorry, but I have to leave and bring her home. I'll be right back."

"When did you adopt a cat---"

And of course, it's you, Sunshine, who has to walk in and witness the small, furry head poking out of the bag.

You halt and let your mouth fall open. Robby swears that you've reacted less dramatically to major trauma. Which makes sense. You're you.

And who would have it any other way, right?

"Oh, my God."

When Bugsy ears twitch, Robby already knows he's fucked.

"You have a baby. You have a little tiny baby! Lemme see."

You cross the room with your hands held out. Bugsy watches, and Robby braces himself for the hiss.

Yep. He's fucked. He's screwed because instead, she leans forward and sniffs your fingers before bumping her head into your hand.

You gasp.

"She loves me. She chose me!"

Robby leans against the table. "She met you four seconds ago, Sunshine. But...she does seem to like you. Makes sense."

Makes sense? He's lucky you ignore that. You only scoop Bugsy carefully from the bag.

Her paws settle on your scrub top. Within a moment or two, the traitorous animal begins to purr. You close your eyes.

Robby watches pure peace fall over you. You usually reserve that look for babies and Jack when he does something gruffly nice and thinks nobody notices.

...And he guesses his furry daughter makes the team.

"Robby. I would die for her."

Dana reaches over and scratches Bugsy under the chin. "Where’d you get her? You just found a cat and took it home?"

"Parking lot. She was under my car."

Robby straightens his spine slightly when you coo and look at him like he's restored your faith in mankind or something. It's involuntary. You have a habit of making men do involuntary things at your reaction.

See Jack Abbot for more information.

"Oh, Robbyyyy. That’s so sweet!"

"Couldn't exactly drive over her, could I, Sunshine? But I'm flattered."

"You bought her a little pink collar."

....Robby looks down at Bugsy and her pink leather collar. It's got a tiny silver bell. The tag is in the shape of a heart.

"...It was the only one in her size."

The only saving grace is that he has no opinion on the warmth that spreads through his chest when your smile for him grows. None---

"Look what the cat dragged in. Robby, the hell is this?"

Jack would tell you to get off the table that you're sitting on, but you're saved by the cat in your lap.

And your shoulder brushing Robby's arm. Huh.

"Jackie! Her name is Bugsy. She was living under his car, and he rescued her. Isn't that adorable? Look at the collar he bought her."

Jack's gaze follows to the heart-shaped tag before returning to Robby. He straightens at the spine.

"You buy all your strays jewelry?"

Robby's throat bobs before he smiles thin.

"Only the pretty ones, Jack."

There's not enough time for Jack to strangle Robby for that quip, because the guy scratches Bugsy's chin as you gleam with joy. The kitten leans into him. You coo.

"She already loves her daddy."

Jack clenches his jaw before peering his head down. Robby gives you a tired smile.

Jesus fucking Christ, kid.

"It's okay because I’m the one with food."

"That’s love to a cat."

Jack nearly scoffs. "And to you."

It's his mutter you blink at.

"What---"

"Give her here, Sleepy."

That's a surprise, the guy wanting to hold Bugsy, but you surrender her with glee. When you do, Jack takes her with what Robby can only call awkward caution. Like he knows just how fragile the monster is.

Bugsy looks very small against him. She sniffs his stubble, and Robby couldn't guess why that gets you to make a sound that is also of glee.

Well. He can. That's Jack. That's your Jack, isn't it? Everyone's got a front row ticket to you and him.

Yeah. Very entertaining stuff. Has been seen he's introduced you to the guy however long ago.

"She smells, Robby---"

Jack's interrupted by Bugsy putting a paw on his mouth. You clutch Robby's arm at that.

"Look! I'm gonna die."

...You know what? Robby's almost gulping at Jack's immediate glare to your platonic affection prevailing in front of him, but he knows to stay calm and remove himself gently. Works to stay in his brother's good graces most of the time.

Yep. He's a pro with you, Sunshine.

"Is she gonna be alone when you leave? Like, alone alone?"

"She's a cat, sunshine. She was surviving outdoors without assistance before me."

You pout.

"That was before she knew love."

Robby hears the complete sincerity in your voice and can only sigh. He's not baffled by your bubbly nunances, hasn't been since the week he met you, and because he's known you for so long, he knows just how to comfort you.

"She sleeps on me. My chest, usually. I'm sure she has no trouble knocking out elsewhere, though. She'll be okay."

Robby's right to be confident as your friend, you look like you're gonna squeal. Or coo again. He'll be okay with either.

"Do you have pictures of her?"

"A couple."

Robby has forty-nine, for some reason. He doesn't know how that happened. And you're practically demanding him, so he shows you some.

He watches you take particular heart with the one of Bugsy going wild in a cardboard that had a cat bed in it. A cat bed shipped and packed in it. A significantly more expensive cat bed.

"I'm totally gonna beg you for updates."

"Never expected you wouldn't. I'll try my best. You can see I'm not the greatest animal photographer."

By the time he comes back from dropping Bugsy off, you and Jack are gone, and the rest of the shift passes by without much incident, surprisingly. That is if you don't count Jack's glare as one. Robby doesn't.

He’s pretty fucking used to it.

how is bugsy doing???

Robby's in bed with Bugsy resting on his naked chest. Her little claws are tickling his chest hair. She's almost spoiled as you are.

He's guessing. He's sure Jack happily drains his bank account for you.

He takes a photo. He looks dog-tired in it, and his hair's a little greasy from the workday. He was planning on showering just when, you know, Bugsy decided she had other plans for him.

...It's not provocative at all. You can handle Robby shirtless, right? You've seen more skin of men you don't know, as a nurse. It'd probably be more weird to put on a shirt just to take of photo for you. Yeah. Yeah. He's not gonna do that.

He sends it. Putting on a shirt would say more than just taking a photo of what he's doing, which is lounging.

I have never met a animal so invasive.

Your response comes pretty immediately. Robby smiles small.

OH MY GOD her tiny beans😭😭😭 you’re such a good cat dad

Robby's smile grows wider. You know how to make somebody's day better. Ridiculously, yeah. That's probably the charm of it.

Not that he has any opinion on being called a good cat dad by you---

"Ow! Fuck, Bugsy."

He still hasn't figured out how to stop Bugsy from biting his nipples.

The photos become routine after, and Robby doesn't mind. You'll ask when you know he's not on shifts. Sometimes...you don't ask at all, and he just sends them to you. Usually when Bugsy's being crazy.

He knows you'll appreciate it. Bugsy trying climb into his shoe, or pawing at his stomach while he watches TV. A lot are of just her, but some include Robby.

He doesn't wanna take selfies of himself. He's not exactly insecure about his looks, but being alone in his own home while doing fuck all...he's not the most photogenic.

But it's practical. Selfies are easy when she's around or on him. Robby's not gonna stage a photoshoot every time Sunshine asks what the cat's doing.

He is also not going to put on a shirt in his own home. Again, he's made his point. That'd be weirder.

So yes, Jack, several photos include his bare shoulders. And his chest.

...He'll admit the one that showed the waistband of his sweatpants could've been deemed a bit risky, but that was only cause Bugsy fell asleep against his hip and he did badly trying to angle the phone down to capture the shot.

she looks so LITTLE next to you!! i'm going ham over this 😭

And hey, it's not like the responses you're giving imply even the slightest bit of realization that his photos to you could be sexual. Which they're not.

So good.

You're curled against Jack's side, your phone illuminating your face. It's kind of hard to fall asleep, considering you're giggling. He opens one eye, squeezing your bicep. It may be punishment.

"Some of us are trying to get some shut eye."

"Look at Bugsy, she's big enough to get into the kitchen sink."

Jack looks at the phone that you, Sleepy, have lovingly shoved into his face. The things he handles for you.

He's looking at Robby in a selfie with Bugsy in the sink.

He's shirtless. Okay. That's...it's his own home. But the fact that the guy feels comfortable sending you half-naked photos. Huh. Fucking interesting.

Robby practically lives on the benefit of the doubt---

"What the hell are you doing?"

"...Looking at Bugsy?"

You're zooming in on the photo, and Jack can feel his rigidly pulsing heart sink.

"You made him bigger. He's naked. How many photos like this is Robby sending to you?"

What the fuck is this?

"He's not naked, hey---"

Jack takes the phone from your hand and studies the photo. Robby's not flexing, but he doesn't know self-conscious. Just a man photographed in his own home by himself, not trying to impress anyone.

Robby also lives on your obliviousness, apparently.

"He sent you this?"

"I asked for Bugsy."

"And his chest just happens to be there. Convenient. Are there more?"

You happily show Jack more, and none of them are explicit. He'd be pretty damn stupid to claim they're even flirtatious in any provable sense.

Saved for the fact he's got his fucking tits out.

You begin visiting Bugsy, and Robby swears you forced the invitation. You were already texting him constantly, and Bugsy clearly likes you. All he did was mention that he doesn't want to leave her alone when she threw up that morning.

i could watch her

Robby stares at the message.

You don’t have to.

i want to! please. i'm gonna break into your house if u don't.

So you come over. See? You practically forced him. He finds it funny, that and how you bring organic cat treats and two toys you had to have bought on your way here.

Robby finds you sitting on his living room floor when he returns, Bugsy asleep in your lap while you hum. He stands in the doorway, keys in hand.

...Looks domestic, almost. That's funny too. You in his place, your shoes by his door, with his cat kid cuddling with you.

You really know how to make a home for yourself, huh?

He clears his throat. Pretty hoarse from today.

"She behave okay?"

You smile up at him. "She’s an angel."

Well. You and she both.

You visit again three days later, and then the next week. Then the next. Robby takes no issue with Jack sometimes coming. Usually he doesn't, though. He claims he has better things to do than sit in his apartment while you wave a feather on a stick.

Robby knows that he still texts every twenty minutes, though.

When are you leaving?

when bugsy stops being perfect

So never. Great.

Robby has no opinion on how often you come over, and he doesn't know you've visited him seven times this month. He finds it funny that you greet Bugsy before greeting him. That tracks.

...He wonders if you can tell he's vacuuming now. He hasn't just started for you. He owns a cat now. Cat hair definitely requires vacuuming.

But he allows himself to feel...he doesn't know, endeared when Bugsy meows at the sound of your voice through his phone. Only because he's a responsible pet owner now.

"Robby, you're back! If you ever need me to catsit, Jack and I can take her."