#cat!sephiroth

He kneels over, digs fast with his hands to find… the saddest little thing he's ever seen; soggy and trembling, but the color of snow itself otherwise. Or so he presumes. It looks a little dirty and probably malnourished.

Definitely thin and miserable, and even then, it tries to scratch him, to bite at the hands offering sudden warmth and kindness. When its lack of energy proves to be too much for that, it hisses, and— Oh! It's a little guy!

Well, not so little, for it's surely an adult, but his junk is out for the world to see, as he’s picked up. A little man!

Now, Angeal has always been more of a dog person. But what else is he supposed to do in this situation? He wouldn't have the heart to leave a soggy, half frozen cat outside to possibly perish at his doorstep. Even if said cat regards him with a murderous green gaze; truly a creature with the most gorgeous eyes in existence. Truly unfair of nature to give him those, only for the little guy to look at Angeal as if eager to draw blood and go to some war.

The cat’s probably seen some things, alright. Probably experienced some horrors.

Well, maybe a little warmth, a good bath and some food could help! After all, who wouldn't be cranky in that state? Even Angeal himself is somewhat grumpy after work, after having to go out in all that snow.

The cat fights him every single step of the way, feist little thing even in his sorry state.

Once he’s clean, Angeal realizes two things: the cat ironically looks like a snowball and… what is he even supposed to feed the poor thing? It’s not like he keeps cat food lying around for emergencies. And he needs to eat just as well.

He warms up leftover soup for himself, of the pumpkin and meat variety. The cat looks at it as if it’s made of something holy and not just something Angeal put together the night before to keep things from going to absolute waste. Coming from a creature who tried to murder him and the towel after being bathed, that’s quite something.

Can cats eat soup? He finds himself typing on his phone.

Said soup is almost stolen as he’s reading on it.

Angeal barely has enough time to prevent a whole paw from going into his dinner.

-

Humans aren't supposed to be like this, he muses.

In his experience, the regular person would have just called animal control or ignored him, or worse, found a way to send him back to that damned lab somehow. And the people of the lab would do much worse than ignoring him or calling some service to deal with him.

But not… this guy.

(Apparently his name is Angeal?)

This human washes him until he’s clean and smelling like lavender, takes a good look at him and quickly decides, “You look like a snowball. Hm, Snowball… Not a bad name, I would say… But you probably have a home to go back to, right?”

No, no, no, no, no—

“But hey. I guess you can stay if we don't find your owner. I wouldn't mind the company.”

The man shares a bit of soup with him; just the kind he has always heard about but could never try before. The one he thought he would die without ever trying.

“Just this once, ok?” He explains, “We gotta get you proper food.”

Even if just once, it's already enough. Perhaps too much.

Nobody has ever treated him with such kindness before… It's so shocking. So… confusing.

He has to remind himself that this human’s intentions are still to find who “owned” him before he ended up at the doorstep, fully intending to perish to the elements, to escape worse fates. Maybe the Lifestream would have given him a new life, one where he could protect others without worries.

Maybe…

Instead, he eventually finds himself in some sort of blanket nest beside the man’s pillow on the bed, too full of soup to really care about much.

“G’night, Snowball.”

But he doesn't sleep. He watches the human, instead, as if trying to break apart a puzzle. Why so kind? Can I have more soup? Please, the soup is good. Please.

Turns out, Angeal’s unique skill consists of falling asleep as soon as his back meets a good mattress. The cat’s fascinated. How dare he sleep with a foreign creature in his territory? It's really a mysterious behavior.

But still… Snowball… Snowball, it indeed sounds decent; carries with it the irony of almost being frozen to death. He finds that he likes that.

-

Angeal doesn’t find the owner.

Instead, he finds himself getting quite some cat accessories through the weeks and, of course, cat food. Which the little stray seems to greatly dislike.

Maybe giving soup to the cat has been a mistake. Snowball is definitely addicted to his food now, to the point Angeal has to be extra careful not to put in something that would kill the poor thing, just in case the cat successfully steals something from him. Aside from his heart, that is.

If he were to find that there is, indeed, a rightful owner… it would probably break him, at this point.

He’s got too attached.

His coworkers remark on it, on the day the weather gets so bad that he’s forced into working from home. The cat shows up for enough time on the video feed that they ask to see him and oh! His little beans are so pink! So cute! The green of his eyes can’t be made justice with his laptop’s camera.

Snowball makes a home out of his lap and stays there for the remainder of the video call, blissfully asleep and being a spot of warmth.

How is Angeal supposed to move him off without disturbing him?

-

Maybe working during the winter and having to deal with ice everywhere, snow in the parking lot and other complications is starting to mess up his head.

Angeal could’ve sworn the night before that he left dirty dishes to wash in the morning… and now they’re gone. Could he have washed them and forgotten due to sleepiness? No… he’s sure he would remember that. The coffee machine even has fresh coffee by the time he gets to the kitchen. It’s just… weird.

He doesn’t have a roommate; it’s just him and Snowball, who couldn’t possibly have cleaned the kitchen and made him coffee.

He’s just a healthy little kitty. A good boy who likes to be patted behind his ears.

Would someone break in just to care for his well being? That sounded odd, but he’s heard about weirder things happening in the world.

Snowball gets his fill of soup, made just for him, and Angeal leaves for work.

He comes back home to find that his laundry’s been done too.

Well, what the fuck.

-

Maybe… he should get the cat neutered.

He doesn’t tell the cat as much, because even if cats (probably) don’t understand human language, maybe the seriousness of the situation would put him off. Or it’s just that Angeal over worries, thinking that the delicate balance of their pleasant master-cat relationship might be affected somehow.

Snowball went from an aggressive little thing to being practically glued on him at almost all possible times, after all.

It doesn’t prevent the absolute note of betrayal when he makes the mistake of mentioning his thoughts to someone over the phone, though. Shit. The cat spends the following days all tense, almost as if he understands the loss that’s to follow. Barely eats his food, hiding in obscure corners of Angeal’s place, instead.

Absolutely hisses at Angeal when he insists that he should eat.

Reminds him of Genesis, a little. Which is why he calls his friend about it, only to be ironically scolded about discipline, honor, boundaries, etc, etc.

“Gen,” he says, “you know it’s just a cat, right?”

“Yes, but you’re trying to take away his manhood! His balls! He’s not even aggressive, is he? Why would you try to do that?”

“I don’t want him to make a lot of kitties all over the neighborhood. That’s all.”

“Does he even leave the house?”

“No, but—”

“Goddess. And you’re threatening to take away his balls? Holy fuck. I’m very glad for you that I’m a whole continent away at the moment,” he says it so dramatically, emphasizing every word in such an elegant way, that Angeal can’t help but worry. “Because otherwise I would be shaking you by the shoulders right now. His balls, Angeal! How could you do that to a man?”

He’s a cat, Genesis, he wants to correct him, but only sighs instead.

Snowball lets out an angry little meow, as though he understands what can be easily overheard and agrees wholeheartedly with Genesis, despite being (apparently) just a cat.

-

The cat watches him sleep, with dread and a little desperation.

Vaccines are one thing; annoying and of no effect on him anyway, but not as invasive as… the thing Angeal mentioned to someone over the phone.

He didn’t flee the lab only to end up on a medical table all over again. That’s messed up. Why are humans like this, he wonders, while worrying over it; gently running the tip of his fingers over Angeal’s jaw and trying to fool himself, to pretend he’s not in love with the guy.

Gaia, if only he knew, if only… Maybe the kind of thought that threatens one’s virility wouldn’t be there to begin with!

He sighs, ears deflating, considering whether or not to reveal the truth.

The possibility of disgust and rejection makes him avoidant. He’s a freak of nature, after all. Perhaps it would be better to simply stay as Angeal’s housecat, even if the costs are too high. Hah…

He drops his head to Angeal’s chest, curling up a little against him and basking in the warmth without expecting anything; the guy sleeps like a brick, after all. But perhaps trusting too much that Angeal would stay asleep is, instead, his downfall.

A hand finds silver strands of hair and a shape too big to be that of a mere housecat and time freezes for a very long moment.

There are cat ears, but the shape is more… humanoid, heavier. Like a strong man pressed on top of him. Angeal tries not to freak out too much, as a lot starts to make sense, as he feels a little guilty, because in retrospect Genesis was right about something.

That really is a man.

“Well… I gotta double check what I’m putting in my soup, if it’s making cats grow into men.”

“It wasn’t the soup,” the cat-man retorts, “I just… I’m what I am, I suppose.”

Angeal finds that he can’t help but run his fingers through what seems to be long, silver hair. It’s soft… it smells good, probably because he gave said cat a bath, recently.

“And you are?”

“Sephiroth. But I find that… I much prefer to be your Snowball.”

And the Goddess has no mercy on him, because Sno— Sephiroth is pretty hot.

-

Of course, that changes things. A lot.

Having a regular cat is one thing, but having Sephiroth around is… something else, really.

Angeal doesn’t tell anyone he knows, swearing secrecy on the same breath he promises to teach him how to make that one pumpkin soup from the first day they met. It has left an impression, apparently, just like the marks on Angeal’s neck that he hopes he can hide somehow, because otherwise things will be awkward at work.

Sephiroth threatens to bite the other side too, when Angeal points it out. Just for good measure. To make it clear for everyone out there that Angeal has an owner, their roles in this charade being reversed in the most unexpected way possible.

Heh.

He tries to open the door to go to work after kissing the man his goodbyes — and Goddess, how unfair it is that those are the most gorgeous green eyes in existence. Makes it too hard to leave.

There’s a decent pile of snow right outside the door.

Angeal sighs and looks back inside; Sephiroth has taken notice of the situation and giggles away at the irony of it.