what a catch
pairing: krischen
rating: nc-17
warning: catboy!au, mentions of bondage
genre: smut
length: ~3100 words, oneshot
summary: unabashed bachelor jongdae forgets he ordered a catboy off the internet, and the catboy he gets almost makes him wish he hadn't. keyword almost.
prompt: here
note: it is very very early in the morning and i'm on spring break!! woo! i hope this makes sense! i don't think it does! i'll format l8r this is kinda the same au as heaven-sent i apologize in advance
On some rainy Saturday, Jongdae is sitting on the couch after work in his underwear and an unbuttoned shirt. It's dinnertime, theoretically, so he's flicking through reality TV channels and trying to eat takeout noodles with the one chopstick that isn’t shoved between the couch cushions when the buzzer rings.
He grunts and lopsidedly buttons his shirt up halfway. The buzzer rings again, and he decides that whoever is coming to his house this late and cares so much isn’t worth putting on pants for. He’s a bachelor. It’s excusable.
He gets up, beer in hand, and walks over to the door.
“Hello?” he mumbles into the intercom, mouth full, and a deep, accented male voice on the other end responds.
“Open the door. I’m coming up.”
He sounds impatient. Jongdae doesn’t like him already.
“Who’re you?” Jongdae asks as he presses the button to unlock the street door, not stopping to think that he could get killed or something until he hears footsteps on the stairs and starts to panic. He holds his beer bottle defensively and waits for the knock on his door.
It comes. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself and hoping he doesn’t look too skinny, and opens the door.
The man on the other side looks unamused. He’s about two meters tall, sopping wet but impeccably dressed in leather pants and a hyper-fitted white shirt with an angry little mouth and pointy, furry ears on top of his damp head that the same shade of blonde as the rest of his hair.
He looks like an asshole. An asshole with fucked-up ears, but strangely pathetic. “Who are you?” Jongdae asks.
“I’m Yifan. You ordered me.”
“No, man, I don’t order people. You have the wrong apartment.”
“I have the receipt. From Companion Industries. I’m the cat hybrid you requested. Now let me in. It’s freezing,” he explains, his voice bored and his tail - he has a tail! - twitching impatiently behind him.
“I - oh…” It hits him. All of those nights out with Joonmyeon, who kept going on and on about how cute his stupid mail-order sex cat person was, and all of those lonely mornings, and all of those paychecks Jongdae was wasting on porn site memberships had culminated in Jongdae getting really shitfaced alone and ordering a cat hybrid off of the internet. He’d forgotten about it, but he’s pretty sure he’d expected it to be… smaller. And nicer. But this is definitely it. And it’s pretty good looking, all things considered.
Jongdae backpedals, scratching his scalp and hoping he’d washed his hair more recently than he remembers. “Well, then, yeah, um, I guess I do… order… people. Come on in.”
The cat man sniffs, ears flattening as he walks into the apartment.
Sure, Jongdae knows it’s pretty gross. It probably smells like dirty laundry and cheap food, but come on. That’s just rude. He’s a bachelor, and these things are excusable.
Except, if Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo are any example, he’s not a bachelor anymore. This tall, irritated catkid is going to shape Jongdae up, cuddle him and cook him dinner every night and let Jongdae fuck him into next week. Or maybe that’s only when he goes into heat.
Jongdae gulps in fear at the thought. His purchase - Yifan, was it? - is already sifting through his fridge in evident disgust. Jongdae can’t imagine Yifan cooking for him, let alone fucking him.
“Your food is shit and I’m tired and cold. Do you need me to suck your dick or can I just go to sleep? Also, where’s the bathroom?”
“It’s, uh, th-through the bedroom on the left,” Jongdae replies, petrified. “And y-you can just go to sleep.”
Jongdae sleeps on the couch that night. His bed is overtaken and even though he’s pretty sure the website said these things are are supposed to be cuddly, he’s not going to chance it, especially not with a face like that. He had a rough, lonely, hungover sort of day and this genetically modified giant is just topping it all off. He’ll sleep on it and buy some cat food in the morning.
He barely sleeps. He gets up at 5 A.M. and goes to the 24-hour convenience store down the block, the one where he met his sort of ex-boyfriend, the artist who lives in the apartment across the street who went to Paris for six months and met another expatriate, and older girl with an edgy haircut, Dara or something, but never really broke it off with Jongdae. He's just left again for three months and Jongdae has officially reverted into bachelorhood. He sighs, bleary-eyed, at the cashier, and sets a bag of cat food on the counter and, remembering his new pet’s face upon seeing the old hard-boiled eggs and tomato sauce in his fridge, a shrink-wrapped tray of discount sushi.
Cats like fish, right?
He pulls some crumpled money out of his pocket and walks back to the apartment, where shuffling sounds are emerging from his bedroom and he wonders if he should look inside.
It's his bedroom, isn't it? Nothing should prevent him from going in there.
But he still stands poised at the doorknob for way too long, his hand hovering above it until he hears water spraying and a loud crash and something like a hiss and he barges in. It’s his cat man, soggy and angry, poised aggressively like he’s ready to fight the antique clawfoot bath/shower ensemble. Chanyeol convinced Jongdae to buy it a few years ago. The cat guy seems unimpressed, and he’s also very much naked, his tail fluffed up defensively and his ass on full display next to the broken ceramic candleholder that never had any candles in it anyway.
“A-are you okay?” Jongdae asks from the doorway, cat food and sushi still in hand. “Do you need help?”
“I do not,” says the cat angrily, turning his face, “need any help. Your bathtub is the one that needs help. It just - it sprayed me, and it was cold, and it was terrible, and you should really get rid of it. I wanted a shower anyway.”
“Yeah, it does that sometimes,” Jongdae laughs. He sets down the bag and walks over, momentarily glancing down at Yifan’s, er, entirety before turning off the faucet and twisting it carefully. “It’s an antique, y’know. My ex-boyfriend bought it with my money. I dunno why I keep it arou-“
“So I’m a rebound?”
“What? No, you’re, like, two years too late to be a rebound. You’re just, um, a manifestation of my inane drunkenness and jealousy.”
“Yeah, whatever, I’m a rebound. Now fix your stupid shower and leave me alone.”
Jongdae turns the water back on, normally this time, and starts the shower. He walks out, stops at the door, and yells through the clamor of the water, “I’d probably have to be fucking you for you to be considered a rebound!”
Yifan either ignores it or doesn’t hear it. Jongdae’s money is on the former - don’t cats have really good hearing or something? - but he’s glad for it. He sits down on his sofa and yawns.
Next thing he knows, he’s awoken by kitty food breath in his face and a warm body laid out on top of him. He rubs his eyes open and his elbows hit a big, warm chest, which instantly recoils.
“Cat food sucks, and the sushi’s gone. Also, somebody named Joonmyeon asked you about me. And your breath smells terrible.”
“Uhhh… cool? Why’d you go through my texts, though? How’d you figure out my password… code… whatever?”
“Your phone kept blinking! I was bored. Now, hurry up, I’m starving.”
“Eat the fuckin’ cat food and I’ll stop by the grocery store on the way home from work tomorrow. Now get off me. What time is it?”
Yifan shrugs and sits on the end of the couch, nose in the air. “How should I know?”
“Weren’t you just on my phone?”
“It’s four fifteen.”
“Jesus Christ, I slept that long? You should’ve woken me up.”
“Well excuse you for not properly outlining my duties. I can’t read your fucking mind.”
“Aren’t you genetically engineered not to curse outside the bedroom? An’ if you can’t read my mind, how’d you figure out how to unlock my phone?”
“It’s just your birthday, asshole. If you wanted a slave cat, you could’ve paid more, but I’m guessing your shitty little job doesn’t pay that well. I’m just your rebound, right?”
“How do you know my birth-” Jongdae raises his eyebrows, cut off by Yifan’s questions. The cat-man’s ears are flattened to his head and his golden eyes are irritated. He’s wearing Jongdae’s clothes, which really don’t fit him at all, and his arms are crossed. Jongdae wasn’t aware they made cats with superiority complexes, but then again, he hadn’t been aware that he’d ordered a cat until last night.
“You have to input your birthday when you order. Not that you could be bothered to remember that or anything.”
“Dude, I’m sorry I forgot I ordered you. Go back to your little arrogant kitty thoughts and ignore me or something. I’ll get you food tonight if you need it,” Jongdae sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets.
But Yifan doesn’t respond, just heads to the bedroom. Jongdae follows him this time after a few minutes, setting his alarm and shutting his window and sleeping on the very opposite side of the bed. He falls back asleep, soundly, and doesn’t notice Yifan’s gradual encroachment on his warmth and his blankets until he’s awoken by his alarm ringing and defensive claws dig into his arms when he reaches them out to slam the snooze button.
He freezes. The claws - or fingernails, as it turns out - retract quickly and Yifan rolls back to the other side of the bed, not facing Jongdae.
“You okay?” Jongdae asks sleepily, but Yifan is pretending to sleep now. Jongdae’s too tired to pester him.
He gets dressed, eats a protein bar, sets out a bowl of cat food, and heads out, locking the door behind him. He prays Yifan won’t ruin anything, and he wonders about the cat as he sits in his cubicle, looking through company expenses and spinning his chair around. This exciting job at his uncle’s law firm has turned into some sort of extended paid internship in hell. He stares at his desktop clock and wills the minutes to go by faster.
He leaves early and unnoticed so that he can stop by the big grocery store on the way home. He spends way too much money on fish and comes home to an irritated cat splayed across his couch.
Yifan doesn’t acknowledge Jongdae much, but Jongdae tries to make conversation anyway. He paid way more than he should’ve on this thing, and he figures he at least deserves some companionship out of it. But despite his efforts, all he elicits from the feline are a few vaguely thankful noises when he puts some fish in front of him every night.
They fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed and slide together in the night, but Yifan wakes up before Jongdae so he can detach himself before the human finds him out.
The next two weeks carry on similarly: quiet, uncomfortable, and disappointing. Yifan halfheartedly asks Jongdae about work some days and Jongdae still has to help him with the shower, but otherwise the damn cat acts cold and aloof and, well, like a cat would, just taller and not quite so domestic.
They fight once on some Thursday night when Jongdae works overtime and the store closes before he can buy more fish. When Yifan grabs his wrist as if to see why he's home late and empty-handed, Jongdae shrinks back: Yifan's skin is so hot it nearly burns his own. When Jongdae asks why, mildly concerned, Yifan hisses at him and walks off.
He doesn't cuddle up to Jongdae in the night. He's too hot. He hates this feeling, so close to his heat and so aware of what's to come but unable to do anything about it but lie in a miserable, damp, burning sweat. At least when he's fully in heat he'll have Jongdae to get him off.
Yifan isn't sure Jongdae even likes him, but he's heard the human in the shower. He knows how lonely Jongdae is, and he doesn't see why else Jongdae would buy him.
And sure enough, two days later, on the hottest Saturday of the spring so far and the two-week anniversary of Yifan's entrance into Jongdae's life, his heat is fully underway. He's trying to quietly get himself off in Jongdae's stupid, stupid bathroom before the sensation pulsing through his kitty veins overwhelms him entirely, but his tail catches in the cabinet door and Jongdae wakes up to a crash. Just as he opens his eyes, Yifan stumbles naked into the bedroom.
Jongdae rubs his eyes to make sure he’s not seeing things - the things in question being Yifan’s inhumanly large, hard, cock - Jongdae is used to feeling inadequate, helping Yifan shower every day, but this is just unfair - and swollen lips and sweat-sheened body. The poor idiot is a mess, barely able to glare defiantly at Jongdae when the human’s eyebrows shoot up, unsure what to do.
“I, uh, didn’t want to wake you up,” he finally exhales, walking over to the bed on trembling legs, “But it’s too late now. Hurry up.”
His voice and his body echo with the same crippling restraint. Every muscle, every sinew, every vein is more pronounced. His ears are flattened backward, even his tail is held straight in the air.
Jongdae takes it all in, petrified, eyes eating up every angle and convexity of his purchase’s physique. He vaguely remembers Joonmyeon’s smirks about the first time Kyungsoo went into heat, and he goes pale. It’s too early for this. He can’t fuck anyone in this state, hungover and sleepy, let alone his giant, unfriendly genetically-modified catboy who’s staring at him like he’s a piece of meat.
He’s undeniably turned on by it, half-hard in his boxers already, but he can’t see himself taking charge. Yifan established his dominance pretty much the second he showed up at the doorstep.
And so Jongdae’s just sitting up in bed, cross-legged and confused, when Yifan kneels in front of him, shaking, and grabs him by the t-shirt collar, slamming his lips messily onto the other’s.
He kisses with the grace and patience of a frustrated fifteen-year-old, but he radiates heat from his chest and his fingernails leave burning pins and needles tingling along Jongdae’s. He grabs Jongdae’s sleepy hair with his open hand and, like the lion he evidently is, growls into the man’s throat.
Jongdae gasps against his lips, trying to keep up, but now that Yifan’s started, he won’t stop until he gets the relief he needs. He pushes against Jongdae, shoving the human’s head back to run his teeth along the boy’s throat. Jongdae gulps, his back against the headboard, and uncrosses his legs to better pull them around Yifan’s. He’s fully hard now, suddenly desperate in the hands of an enormously aroused and equally desperate feline, and he lets his brain fall to autopilot so that his body can properly respond to Yifan’s total abandonment of restraint.
It’s not as easy as it probably should be. Yifan’s lack of restraint has turned him whiny and desperate and impatient, and once he’s done sucking up Jongdae’s scent through his throat, he tries to turn his owner over, whimpering angrily as Jongdae resists. The stupid pale human is so pointy and imperceptive, and Yifan needs him underneath him so soon and so badly.
Jongdae figures it out in an eternity, some matter of horribly long seconds, tentatively turning around and pushing himself up onto all fours and even though Yifan kind of wanted to see how his pointy little mouth moved itself when he came, he isn’t half that patient. His ears are perked up and he’s so hard it hurts. He grabs Jongdae’s ass, pale and flat though it may be, and spreads its cheeks, playing at its entrance with a thick finger. Jongdae hisses something about lubricant, and Yifan groans. He forgets humans don’t self-lubricate- so inconvenient for a dominant species - and sucks at his fingers. He’s not rooting around in any more of his new owner’s drawers.
He doesn’t have to, though, because Jongdae’s stretching up and grabbing something from the bedside table and within moments, he’s back on his hands and knees and he’s got two fingers inside of himself - he still knows how to put on a show.
He still knows how to tease, and it almost kills Yifan.
Jongdae takes an excruciatingly long time to spread open. He’s so tight and quiet, letting out his gasps softly after letting them build up in his throat, and his pointy, pale body is too pretty for its own good, his pink hole gaping and clenching obediently around his own fingers. Yifan’s mesmerized and bored all at once, whimpering the whole damn time as he watches, trying to keep his hands behind his back. He’s pulled together all of the restraint he had left in his body and he’s trying to keep it from falling apart, tail twitching and ears flat back on his head, but genetic engineering can only do so much for his stamina. He’s about to explode when Jongdae finally pulls out his fingers and huffs out a soft “fuck me.”
Yifan doesn’t need to be told twice.
He spits into his hand and rubs along his length a few times, nearly coming the moment he pushes in but holding himself back.
He gives up on doing so soon, fucking Jongdae with all of the strength in his feline body.
Jongdae lets Yifan stretch him and scratch him, his long eyelashes batting his cheeks. Somewhere in his little head he realizes he’s getting his money’s worth, but for the most part he’s preoccupied by how incredibly huge Yifan’s cock is as it throbs and thrusts within him, accompanied by little needy kitty whines.
Yifan wraps his big hand around Jongdae’s dick and pumps it in time with his thrusts. They come together and fuck again and again: Yifan is insatiable, no longer the cruel, cold lion but rather the desperate, whimpering kitten. Jongdae contorts himself too quickly to satisfy the animal boy’s whims and, when he finally falls asleep, naked in bed and tangled up in Yifan’s long limbs, he’s bruised and sore. He reminds himself to make Yifan massage him in the morning, but Yifan wakes him up with his tail and his lips and Jongdae forgets about nearly everything else.
He hasn’t felt such pleasure in far too long, and he can’t help but feel a little too grateful to Yifan.
So grateful, in fact that he lets Yifan coerce him into calling in sick to work on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and using his best tie to play around, but it’s worth it for the look on Joonmyeon’s face when he and Kyungsoo meet Jongdae and Yifan for dinner on Friday night and for the way Yifan grabs Jongdae’s wrist like a scared child under the table when he meets them, even though he keeps up his cool, princely façade and scares the shit out of Joonmyeon.
Because even though it’s pretty hard to explain the chafe marks on his wrists to his coworkers and even though Jongdae’s still not even sure on the ethics of ordering a genetically-engineered cat-hybrid sort of-boyfriend off the Internet, let alone forgetting you ordered him, Yifan’s always there waiting for him when he gets home from work, and Saturday nights spent with him in front of the TV with beer and takeout vastly beats Saturday nights spent alone in front of the TV with beer and takeout.
The one week every month where Yifan ties Jongdae in knots and fucks him senseless over every open surface in the apartment is just an added bonus.
rating: nc-17
warning: catboy!au, mentions of bondage
genre: smut
length: ~3100 words, oneshot
summary: unabashed bachelor jongdae forgets he ordered a catboy off the internet, and the catboy he gets almost makes him wish he hadn't. keyword almost.
prompt: here
note: it is very very early in the morning and i'm on spring break!! woo! i hope this makes sense! i don't think it does! i'll format l8r this is kinda the same au as heaven-sent i apologize in advance
On some rainy Saturday, Jongdae is sitting on the couch after work in his underwear and an unbuttoned shirt. It's dinnertime, theoretically, so he's flicking through reality TV channels and trying to eat takeout noodles with the one chopstick that isn’t shoved between the couch cushions when the buzzer rings.
He grunts and lopsidedly buttons his shirt up halfway. The buzzer rings again, and he decides that whoever is coming to his house this late and cares so much isn’t worth putting on pants for. He’s a bachelor. It’s excusable.
He gets up, beer in hand, and walks over to the door.
“Hello?” he mumbles into the intercom, mouth full, and a deep, accented male voice on the other end responds.
“Open the door. I’m coming up.”
He sounds impatient. Jongdae doesn’t like him already.
“Who’re you?” Jongdae asks as he presses the button to unlock the street door, not stopping to think that he could get killed or something until he hears footsteps on the stairs and starts to panic. He holds his beer bottle defensively and waits for the knock on his door.
It comes. He takes a deep breath, bracing himself and hoping he doesn’t look too skinny, and opens the door.
The man on the other side looks unamused. He’s about two meters tall, sopping wet but impeccably dressed in leather pants and a hyper-fitted white shirt with an angry little mouth and pointy, furry ears on top of his damp head that the same shade of blonde as the rest of his hair.
He looks like an asshole. An asshole with fucked-up ears, but strangely pathetic. “Who are you?” Jongdae asks.
“I’m Yifan. You ordered me.”
“No, man, I don’t order people. You have the wrong apartment.”
“I have the receipt. From Companion Industries. I’m the cat hybrid you requested. Now let me in. It’s freezing,” he explains, his voice bored and his tail - he has a tail! - twitching impatiently behind him.
“I - oh…” It hits him. All of those nights out with Joonmyeon, who kept going on and on about how cute his stupid mail-order sex cat person was, and all of those lonely mornings, and all of those paychecks Jongdae was wasting on porn site memberships had culminated in Jongdae getting really shitfaced alone and ordering a cat hybrid off of the internet. He’d forgotten about it, but he’s pretty sure he’d expected it to be… smaller. And nicer. But this is definitely it. And it’s pretty good looking, all things considered.
Jongdae backpedals, scratching his scalp and hoping he’d washed his hair more recently than he remembers. “Well, then, yeah, um, I guess I do… order… people. Come on in.”
The cat man sniffs, ears flattening as he walks into the apartment.
Sure, Jongdae knows it’s pretty gross. It probably smells like dirty laundry and cheap food, but come on. That’s just rude. He’s a bachelor, and these things are excusable.
Except, if Joonmyeon and Kyungsoo are any example, he’s not a bachelor anymore. This tall, irritated catkid is going to shape Jongdae up, cuddle him and cook him dinner every night and let Jongdae fuck him into next week. Or maybe that’s only when he goes into heat.
Jongdae gulps in fear at the thought. His purchase - Yifan, was it? - is already sifting through his fridge in evident disgust. Jongdae can’t imagine Yifan cooking for him, let alone fucking him.
“Your food is shit and I’m tired and cold. Do you need me to suck your dick or can I just go to sleep? Also, where’s the bathroom?”
“It’s, uh, th-through the bedroom on the left,” Jongdae replies, petrified. “And y-you can just go to sleep.”
Jongdae sleeps on the couch that night. His bed is overtaken and even though he’s pretty sure the website said these things are are supposed to be cuddly, he’s not going to chance it, especially not with a face like that. He had a rough, lonely, hungover sort of day and this genetically modified giant is just topping it all off. He’ll sleep on it and buy some cat food in the morning.
He barely sleeps. He gets up at 5 A.M. and goes to the 24-hour convenience store down the block, the one where he met his sort of ex-boyfriend, the artist who lives in the apartment across the street who went to Paris for six months and met another expatriate, and older girl with an edgy haircut, Dara or something, but never really broke it off with Jongdae. He's just left again for three months and Jongdae has officially reverted into bachelorhood. He sighs, bleary-eyed, at the cashier, and sets a bag of cat food on the counter and, remembering his new pet’s face upon seeing the old hard-boiled eggs and tomato sauce in his fridge, a shrink-wrapped tray of discount sushi.
Cats like fish, right?
He pulls some crumpled money out of his pocket and walks back to the apartment, where shuffling sounds are emerging from his bedroom and he wonders if he should look inside.
It's his bedroom, isn't it? Nothing should prevent him from going in there.
But he still stands poised at the doorknob for way too long, his hand hovering above it until he hears water spraying and a loud crash and something like a hiss and he barges in. It’s his cat man, soggy and angry, poised aggressively like he’s ready to fight the antique clawfoot bath/shower ensemble. Chanyeol convinced Jongdae to buy it a few years ago. The cat guy seems unimpressed, and he’s also very much naked, his tail fluffed up defensively and his ass on full display next to the broken ceramic candleholder that never had any candles in it anyway.
“A-are you okay?” Jongdae asks from the doorway, cat food and sushi still in hand. “Do you need help?”
“I do not,” says the cat angrily, turning his face, “need any help. Your bathtub is the one that needs help. It just - it sprayed me, and it was cold, and it was terrible, and you should really get rid of it. I wanted a shower anyway.”
“Yeah, it does that sometimes,” Jongdae laughs. He sets down the bag and walks over, momentarily glancing down at Yifan’s, er, entirety before turning off the faucet and twisting it carefully. “It’s an antique, y’know. My ex-boyfriend bought it with my money. I dunno why I keep it arou-“
“So I’m a rebound?”
“What? No, you’re, like, two years too late to be a rebound. You’re just, um, a manifestation of my inane drunkenness and jealousy.”
“Yeah, whatever, I’m a rebound. Now fix your stupid shower and leave me alone.”
Jongdae turns the water back on, normally this time, and starts the shower. He walks out, stops at the door, and yells through the clamor of the water, “I’d probably have to be fucking you for you to be considered a rebound!”
Yifan either ignores it or doesn’t hear it. Jongdae’s money is on the former - don’t cats have really good hearing or something? - but he’s glad for it. He sits down on his sofa and yawns.
Next thing he knows, he’s awoken by kitty food breath in his face and a warm body laid out on top of him. He rubs his eyes open and his elbows hit a big, warm chest, which instantly recoils.
“Cat food sucks, and the sushi’s gone. Also, somebody named Joonmyeon asked you about me. And your breath smells terrible.”
“Uhhh… cool? Why’d you go through my texts, though? How’d you figure out my password… code… whatever?”
“Your phone kept blinking! I was bored. Now, hurry up, I’m starving.”
“Eat the fuckin’ cat food and I’ll stop by the grocery store on the way home from work tomorrow. Now get off me. What time is it?”
Yifan shrugs and sits on the end of the couch, nose in the air. “How should I know?”
“Weren’t you just on my phone?”
“It’s four fifteen.”
“Jesus Christ, I slept that long? You should’ve woken me up.”
“Well excuse you for not properly outlining my duties. I can’t read your fucking mind.”
“Aren’t you genetically engineered not to curse outside the bedroom? An’ if you can’t read my mind, how’d you figure out how to unlock my phone?”
“It’s just your birthday, asshole. If you wanted a slave cat, you could’ve paid more, but I’m guessing your shitty little job doesn’t pay that well. I’m just your rebound, right?”
“How do you know my birth-” Jongdae raises his eyebrows, cut off by Yifan’s questions. The cat-man’s ears are flattened to his head and his golden eyes are irritated. He’s wearing Jongdae’s clothes, which really don’t fit him at all, and his arms are crossed. Jongdae wasn’t aware they made cats with superiority complexes, but then again, he hadn’t been aware that he’d ordered a cat until last night.
“You have to input your birthday when you order. Not that you could be bothered to remember that or anything.”
“Dude, I’m sorry I forgot I ordered you. Go back to your little arrogant kitty thoughts and ignore me or something. I’ll get you food tonight if you need it,” Jongdae sighs, shoving his hands into his pockets.
But Yifan doesn’t respond, just heads to the bedroom. Jongdae follows him this time after a few minutes, setting his alarm and shutting his window and sleeping on the very opposite side of the bed. He falls back asleep, soundly, and doesn’t notice Yifan’s gradual encroachment on his warmth and his blankets until he’s awoken by his alarm ringing and defensive claws dig into his arms when he reaches them out to slam the snooze button.
He freezes. The claws - or fingernails, as it turns out - retract quickly and Yifan rolls back to the other side of the bed, not facing Jongdae.
“You okay?” Jongdae asks sleepily, but Yifan is pretending to sleep now. Jongdae’s too tired to pester him.
He gets dressed, eats a protein bar, sets out a bowl of cat food, and heads out, locking the door behind him. He prays Yifan won’t ruin anything, and he wonders about the cat as he sits in his cubicle, looking through company expenses and spinning his chair around. This exciting job at his uncle’s law firm has turned into some sort of extended paid internship in hell. He stares at his desktop clock and wills the minutes to go by faster.
He leaves early and unnoticed so that he can stop by the big grocery store on the way home. He spends way too much money on fish and comes home to an irritated cat splayed across his couch.
Yifan doesn’t acknowledge Jongdae much, but Jongdae tries to make conversation anyway. He paid way more than he should’ve on this thing, and he figures he at least deserves some companionship out of it. But despite his efforts, all he elicits from the feline are a few vaguely thankful noises when he puts some fish in front of him every night.
They fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed and slide together in the night, but Yifan wakes up before Jongdae so he can detach himself before the human finds him out.
The next two weeks carry on similarly: quiet, uncomfortable, and disappointing. Yifan halfheartedly asks Jongdae about work some days and Jongdae still has to help him with the shower, but otherwise the damn cat acts cold and aloof and, well, like a cat would, just taller and not quite so domestic.
They fight once on some Thursday night when Jongdae works overtime and the store closes before he can buy more fish. When Yifan grabs his wrist as if to see why he's home late and empty-handed, Jongdae shrinks back: Yifan's skin is so hot it nearly burns his own. When Jongdae asks why, mildly concerned, Yifan hisses at him and walks off.
He doesn't cuddle up to Jongdae in the night. He's too hot. He hates this feeling, so close to his heat and so aware of what's to come but unable to do anything about it but lie in a miserable, damp, burning sweat. At least when he's fully in heat he'll have Jongdae to get him off.
Yifan isn't sure Jongdae even likes him, but he's heard the human in the shower. He knows how lonely Jongdae is, and he doesn't see why else Jongdae would buy him.
And sure enough, two days later, on the hottest Saturday of the spring so far and the two-week anniversary of Yifan's entrance into Jongdae's life, his heat is fully underway. He's trying to quietly get himself off in Jongdae's stupid, stupid bathroom before the sensation pulsing through his kitty veins overwhelms him entirely, but his tail catches in the cabinet door and Jongdae wakes up to a crash. Just as he opens his eyes, Yifan stumbles naked into the bedroom.
Jongdae rubs his eyes to make sure he’s not seeing things - the things in question being Yifan’s inhumanly large, hard, cock - Jongdae is used to feeling inadequate, helping Yifan shower every day, but this is just unfair - and swollen lips and sweat-sheened body. The poor idiot is a mess, barely able to glare defiantly at Jongdae when the human’s eyebrows shoot up, unsure what to do.
“I, uh, didn’t want to wake you up,” he finally exhales, walking over to the bed on trembling legs, “But it’s too late now. Hurry up.”
His voice and his body echo with the same crippling restraint. Every muscle, every sinew, every vein is more pronounced. His ears are flattened backward, even his tail is held straight in the air.
Jongdae takes it all in, petrified, eyes eating up every angle and convexity of his purchase’s physique. He vaguely remembers Joonmyeon’s smirks about the first time Kyungsoo went into heat, and he goes pale. It’s too early for this. He can’t fuck anyone in this state, hungover and sleepy, let alone his giant, unfriendly genetically-modified catboy who’s staring at him like he’s a piece of meat.
He’s undeniably turned on by it, half-hard in his boxers already, but he can’t see himself taking charge. Yifan established his dominance pretty much the second he showed up at the doorstep.
And so Jongdae’s just sitting up in bed, cross-legged and confused, when Yifan kneels in front of him, shaking, and grabs him by the t-shirt collar, slamming his lips messily onto the other’s.
He kisses with the grace and patience of a frustrated fifteen-year-old, but he radiates heat from his chest and his fingernails leave burning pins and needles tingling along Jongdae’s. He grabs Jongdae’s sleepy hair with his open hand and, like the lion he evidently is, growls into the man’s throat.
Jongdae gasps against his lips, trying to keep up, but now that Yifan’s started, he won’t stop until he gets the relief he needs. He pushes against Jongdae, shoving the human’s head back to run his teeth along the boy’s throat. Jongdae gulps, his back against the headboard, and uncrosses his legs to better pull them around Yifan’s. He’s fully hard now, suddenly desperate in the hands of an enormously aroused and equally desperate feline, and he lets his brain fall to autopilot so that his body can properly respond to Yifan’s total abandonment of restraint.
It’s not as easy as it probably should be. Yifan’s lack of restraint has turned him whiny and desperate and impatient, and once he’s done sucking up Jongdae’s scent through his throat, he tries to turn his owner over, whimpering angrily as Jongdae resists. The stupid pale human is so pointy and imperceptive, and Yifan needs him underneath him so soon and so badly.
Jongdae figures it out in an eternity, some matter of horribly long seconds, tentatively turning around and pushing himself up onto all fours and even though Yifan kind of wanted to see how his pointy little mouth moved itself when he came, he isn’t half that patient. His ears are perked up and he’s so hard it hurts. He grabs Jongdae’s ass, pale and flat though it may be, and spreads its cheeks, playing at its entrance with a thick finger. Jongdae hisses something about lubricant, and Yifan groans. He forgets humans don’t self-lubricate- so inconvenient for a dominant species - and sucks at his fingers. He’s not rooting around in any more of his new owner’s drawers.
He doesn’t have to, though, because Jongdae’s stretching up and grabbing something from the bedside table and within moments, he’s back on his hands and knees and he’s got two fingers inside of himself - he still knows how to put on a show.
He still knows how to tease, and it almost kills Yifan.
Jongdae takes an excruciatingly long time to spread open. He’s so tight and quiet, letting out his gasps softly after letting them build up in his throat, and his pointy, pale body is too pretty for its own good, his pink hole gaping and clenching obediently around his own fingers. Yifan’s mesmerized and bored all at once, whimpering the whole damn time as he watches, trying to keep his hands behind his back. He’s pulled together all of the restraint he had left in his body and he’s trying to keep it from falling apart, tail twitching and ears flat back on his head, but genetic engineering can only do so much for his stamina. He’s about to explode when Jongdae finally pulls out his fingers and huffs out a soft “fuck me.”
Yifan doesn’t need to be told twice.
He spits into his hand and rubs along his length a few times, nearly coming the moment he pushes in but holding himself back.
He gives up on doing so soon, fucking Jongdae with all of the strength in his feline body.
Jongdae lets Yifan stretch him and scratch him, his long eyelashes batting his cheeks. Somewhere in his little head he realizes he’s getting his money’s worth, but for the most part he’s preoccupied by how incredibly huge Yifan’s cock is as it throbs and thrusts within him, accompanied by little needy kitty whines.
Yifan wraps his big hand around Jongdae’s dick and pumps it in time with his thrusts. They come together and fuck again and again: Yifan is insatiable, no longer the cruel, cold lion but rather the desperate, whimpering kitten. Jongdae contorts himself too quickly to satisfy the animal boy’s whims and, when he finally falls asleep, naked in bed and tangled up in Yifan’s long limbs, he’s bruised and sore. He reminds himself to make Yifan massage him in the morning, but Yifan wakes him up with his tail and his lips and Jongdae forgets about nearly everything else.
He hasn’t felt such pleasure in far too long, and he can’t help but feel a little too grateful to Yifan.
So grateful, in fact that he lets Yifan coerce him into calling in sick to work on Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday and using his best tie to play around, but it’s worth it for the look on Joonmyeon’s face when he and Kyungsoo meet Jongdae and Yifan for dinner on Friday night and for the way Yifan grabs Jongdae’s wrist like a scared child under the table when he meets them, even though he keeps up his cool, princely façade and scares the shit out of Joonmyeon.
Because even though it’s pretty hard to explain the chafe marks on his wrists to his coworkers and even though Jongdae’s still not even sure on the ethics of ordering a genetically-engineered cat-hybrid sort of-boyfriend off the Internet, let alone forgetting you ordered him, Yifan’s always there waiting for him when he gets home from work, and Saturday nights spent with him in front of the TV with beer and takeout vastly beats Saturday nights spent alone in front of the TV with beer and takeout.
The one week every month where Yifan ties Jongdae in knots and fucks him senseless over every open surface in the apartment is just an added bonus.