Matt was dramatically sick.
Like, tissues everywhere, blanket-burrito-on-the-couch, congested, sniffling, miserable-boyfriend sick.
You’d been doting on him all day because (1) you loved him, and (2) he was pitiful in the cutest way when he wasn’t feeling good.
“I’m so stuffy I can’t think straight,” Matt whined, buried under layers of hoodies and a blanket you definitely stole from Nick’s room.
“You haven’t thought straight in years,” Chris yelled from the kitchen.
Nick walked by, threw a tissue box onto Matt’s lap, and said, “Survival of the fittest. You’re losing.”
You ignored them, brushing sweaty hair off Matt’s forehead. “What do you need, babe?”
Matt blinked up at you, congested and weak. “A kitten.”
You blinked down at him. “A… what now?”
“A kitten. Little paws. Little nose. Warm. Cuddly. Sleeps on me. He’d fix me.”
Matt waved this away with all the drama of someone fighting for his life. “Love is stronger than allergies.”
You tried to hold in your laugh. “Okay. Go to sleep.”
But that tiny, fever-delirious request stuck with you.
You both loved cats. And despite his allergies, Matt had always looked at kittens like they were tiny angels sent from heaven.
Two days later, Matt was still a little sick but mostly just sniffly and bored.
You brought it up casually in the living room, where all three boys were slouched around watching TV.
“You know… we could actually get a kitten.”
Chris looked up from his chips. “Terrible idea. I’m allergic.”
Nick didn’t even blink. “Same. But also? Hilarious. I vote yes.”
Matt perked up, still wrapped in a blanket. “Wait, for real?”
You pulled up a photo on your phone: a Maine Coon kitten, light grey fur with tiny black spots on his front left ankle. Big, sleepy-looking eyes. Immediate attitude.
Matt gasped like you’d shown him a winning lottery ticket. “That’s him. That’s my son.”
“We’d name him Leo,” you said.
Chris sneezed just looking at the picture. “God help us.”
Nick shrugged. “We’re already suffering. Might as well suffer with something cute.”
Leo arrived in a tiny blue carrier, meowing like he owned the place.
Matt fell in love immediately.
“Oh my god,” he whispered, pulling the kitten gently out. “Look at his little ankle spots.”
Leo blinked up at him, yawned, and headbutted his chest.
Matt sneezed violently. “I’d die for him.”
Leo meowed again, climbed onto Matt’s hoodie, and settled like a loaf on his chest.
“He’s picked his victim,” Nick said, grabbing tissues. “Rest in peace, Matt.”
Chris was already sniffling from ten feet away. “I hate how cute he is.”
Leo became Matt’s shadow.
Where Matt went, Leo followed.
Kitchen? Leo, judging from atop the fridge.
Studio? Leo, curled dramatically on Matt’s lap, tail in his face.
At night? Leo took over the bed. Specifically, Matt’s chest.
You used to cuddle with Matt. Fall asleep pressed to his side, hand on his stomach, kisses on his neck.
Curled under Matt’s chin.
Paws shoved against Matt’s throat like he was guarding his property.
Tail flicking in Matt’s face every time he dared exhale.
You? Exiled to the mattress edge.
“This is getting out of hand,” you whispered one night.
Matt, half-asleep and congested: “He’s warm. Let him live.”
“There’s no room for me anymore.”
“There’s room… in my heart.”
“Not in the bed, though.”
You glared at Leo’s smug, sleeping face. “He’s replaced me.”
Matt smiled. “He’s small. Let him have this.”
Chris considered moving out.
“Your cat is ruining my life,” Nick declared one morning, rubbing his eyes.
“He’s not my cat. He’s Matt’s,” you said.
Matt sneezed violently. “He’s family now.”
Leo blinked at them from Matt’s hoodie pocket like a king surveying his peasants.
“He knows,” Chris muttered, sniffling. “He knows he’s the favorite.”
Leo purred louder. Victory secured.
You tried reclaiming Matt. Truly.
1. Cuddling first? Leo climbed over you.
2. Distracting Leo with toys? He returned immediately.
3. Moving Leo gently? Death glare. Instant boomerang.
You’d lost. Fully, completely, hilariously.
You went from girlfriend to second-place in your own bed.
“I miss sleeping on you,” you pouted one night.
Matt, under a purring, loaf-shaped Leo: “I’m still here… somewhere.”
“No, Leo’s there. You’re under him.”
“I used to love you like that.”
Matt laughed, muffled by fur. “He shares.”
You kissed Matt over Leo’s fluff.
Matt held your hand under the blankets, even if he had kitten claws in his throat.
Chris and Nick sneezed through every movie night but stayed because, well, they lived here too.
But when Matt kissed your temple over Leo’s purring body and whispered, “You know I love you, right? Even if I’m a hostage to a seven-pound dictator?” you smiled.
And Leo, nestled like royalty between you, flicked his tail like he approved.
Few weeks later Leo was playing
It started innocently enough.
Leo had been chasing his toy mouse with the energy of a cat three times his size, hopping between couch cushions like a tiny Olympian.
Until… he didn’t land quite right.
A tiny yelp. A dramatic flop to the side.
You, Matt, Nick, and Chris all froze at the same time.
Matt’s face went pale. “Leo?”
Leo meowed, but when he tried to stand, he immediately lifted one tiny paw and whimpered.
“Oh my god—no, no, no—” Matt scooped him up like glass. “Baby, what did you do?”
Nick peeked over Matt’s shoulder, wide-eyed. “Uh… I think he twisted something.”
Chris was already Googling ‘can cats sprain ankles’ on his phone.
Matt looked at you, panicked. “We’re going to the vet. Right now.”
The vet confirmed it wasn’t serious.
Just a mild sprain, some rest, a tiny adorable bandage wrapped around Leo’s ankle.
But you would’ve thought the world was ending by the look on Matt’s face.
“He’s in pain,” Matt whispered in the car, holding Leo’s carrier like a priceless artifact.
“He’ll heal,” you soothed. “Kittens bounce back fast.”
But Matt looked heartbroken. “He’s my little guy. I should’ve protected him.”
Nick, from the back seat, sighed dramatically. “He fell off the couch, Matt. You’re not a bodyguard.”
Chris added, “He’s a cat. They do this. Constantly.”
Matt didn’t respond. He just watched Leo with watery eyes the whole way home.
Matt turned into a full-time nurse.
Soft blankets everywhere.
Kitten snacks hand-fed like Leo was royalty.
Cuddles on the couch with Matt whispering, “You’re gonna be okay, little man. Daddy’s got you.”
You… tried not to feel a little left out.
You loved Leo. Truly. But suddenly, your boyfriend was spending every waking second cradling his fluffy son while you sat quietly on the other end of the couch.
No more late-night cuddles.
No more movie marathons tangled up together.
No more spontaneous kisses in the kitchen while making tea.
Leo, injured and dramatic.
Matt, soft and more emotional than usual.
“You look kinda… bummed,” he said one afternoon while you picked at your lunch.
You shrugged. “It’s dumb. Matt’s just been really focused on Leo lately.”
Chris plopped down beside you. “He’ll snap out of it. He’s just being dramatic. Like… extra dramatic.”
Nick nodded. “Yeah, he’s babying the cat because he feels guilty. Give him a sec.”
You smiled a little. “I know. It’s sweet, honestly. I just kinda miss him.”
Chris nudged your shoulder. “He’ll come back around. You’re still his favorite person. Even if Leo’s currently winning.”
That night, after Leo was settled comfortably on Matt’s chest with his little bandaged ankle propped on a pillow, Matt finally looked over at you properly.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said softly.
You gave him a half-smile. “Just didn’t wanna get between you and your boy.”
Matt’s face fell. “Babe… I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“I know. You’re just being a good cat dad.”
He gently set Leo down on his special blanket nest, kissed the kitten’s tiny head, and turned fully toward you.
“Tomorrow night,” Matt said. “We’re going out. Just us. Fancy. Dress up. Let me spoil you.”
“I want to.” He smiled, soft and tired. “I miss you too.”
The next night, he took you to a beautiful rooftop restaurant — candlelight, skyline views, the whole thing.
He held your hand across the table, thumb tracing soft circles into your knuckles.
“I’m sorry I got so wrapped up,” he said quietly. “I just… I panicked. He’s so small. I didn’t want him to hurt.”
You smiled. “I know. I love how much you love him.”
Matt laughed. “Not as much as I love you. Obviously.”
“You sure? I’ve been dethroned lately.”
He leaned across the table, kissed you slow and sweet. “Never. You’re permanent. Leo’s just… loud.”
You laughed together. Ordered dessert. Let yourselves just be.
Back home, Leo was curled up peacefully in his nest.
Matt pulled you onto the couch, arms around you for the first time in days, head tucked into your neck.
“I really did miss you,” he whispered.
And finally — finally — you got your boyfriend back.
Even if a fluffy kitten with a tiny bandaged paw still glared from his pillow like he knew he’d always come first.
