((Supernatural AU)) Here, Kitty Kitty
Title: Here, Kitty Kitty
Word Count: 4300
Rating: T/PG-13
Canon spoilers: None (AU)
Pairing: Domestic AU Sam/Gabriel
Summary: Gabe is not, has not ever been, and will never be a cat person.
Notes: Part of the 'One More Miracle' 'verse. Contains very mild spoilers for OMM, but you don't necessarily have to read it in order to read this. (If you want, you can find the OMM Masterpost here.)
It was a chilly Sunday in January, and Gabe had slept in a bit, not meandering down the steps from the apartment above his bookstore to open up shop until mid-morning. He was groggy and just a tad bit sore, having woken up tangled in wrinkled sheets, and he smirked still even as he descended the stairs at the memory of the previous night. Well, if anything, he was in an excellent mood for the day’s work, albeit worn out.
Coffee in hand and a yawn stretching across his face, he reached for the door only to find it...unlocked. Weird. One eyebrow quirked up as he pushed it open, and the bell chimed merrily overhead.
There was a bowl of milk in the middle of the floor.
No explanation, no reason, nobody else in the store besides himself, from what he could see. Nothing except a bowl of milk sitting right in the middle of the floor, in front of the counter. Like it belonged there.
Gabe craned his neck, trying to get a look around the store because he swore he hadn't left the bowl out, but he only saw it completely empty. Except...
A pair of feet poked out from under the curtain leading to the back room. A large pair of feet.
“Sasquatch?”
Sam poked his head around the curtain with a megawatt grin. “Morning, Gabe!” he greeted. “What are you doing up?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Thought I wore you out.”
“It's almost eleven. Not even you'r that ood, kiddo. What are you doing down here?”
“Nothing.”
Gabe stared at him until Sam started to fidget. “What?” Sam asked.
“What’s with the milk?” Gabe pointed down at the bowl, nudging it with one foot; a few drops spilled out onto the hardwood floor.
All Sam could get out was a noncommittal “Um...” before he was interrupted by a soft whine. If Gabe didn’t know better, he almost would have said it sounded like a...meow.
Sam tried and failed to look innocent.
“Sam.”
“What?” he asked again, dumbly. Suddenly, he looked panicked, and Gabe heard a gentle thump. A little ball of brown-speckled white fur came charging out from behind the curtain before Sam could stop it, hurtling toward Gabe. Gabe yelped, hopped up on the counter and watched as the cat sat beneath his dangling feet, purring and staring up at him with its gleaming green-flecked eyes.
“What the hell is that?” he barked.
“A cat,” Sam said guiltily as he emerged from behind the curtain.
“ know t’s a cat,” Gabe spat. He bent his knees and held them against his chest when said cat got up on its hind legs, leaning its forepaws against the counter and meowing at him. “I mean why is it here?”
Sam scratched the back of his neck. “I...let him in.”
“And yo fed t? Sam, if you give the thing food it’s never gonna leave!”
“What do you have against cats?” Sam asked as he squatted down, scritching the cat’s neck. It purred even louder and rubbed against his knees with a happy flick of its tail.
Gabe crossed his arms and eyed the cat warily. “I don’t have anything against them on principle, but you have no idea where that thing’s been!”
Sam reached down, picked the cat up and held out one of its forepaws. Gabe flinched. “He’s declawed,” Sam pointed out. “He must have belonged to somebody.”
“Oh, so it’s a ‘he’ now, is it?”
“Well yeah! I mean...” He lifted the cat up and glanced beneath it. “I’m pretty sure. He’s been fixed, it looks like too.”
The cat squirmed, and Sam put it down on the floor. Its remaining back claws scratched against the wood floor as it went to the milk bowl and began to lap at it. He looked back at Gabe, who was staring at the animal as it drank, as if it might leap up and attack at any moment, and he laughed.
“It’s not gonna hurt you, you know.”
“That’s not the point, sasquatch! You weren’t gonna keep it, were you?”
Sam shrugged exhaustedly. “Well he obviously belonged to someone, but he doesn’t have a collar or anything. He was just wandering around outside the shop yowling this morning, and it was cold...I couldn’t just let him freeze!”
The cat ran over to Sam again, its little pink tongue darting out to wipe off the milk that clung to the fur around its mouth. It butted its head against the back of Sam's leg until he bent down to pick it up again. Gabe sighed, still not coming down from the counter but letting his legs dangle down over the side again. “We can’t keep it you know.”
“I figured we could at least ask around. Keep him here until someone comes looking.” As he spoke, he rubbed the cat’s head, and it closed its eyes at its touch, pressing up against his hand and relaxing in his arms. It was almost cute.
Gabe thrust those thoughts away. “Can’t we just...take it to a shelter or something?”
“No!” Sam immediately replied, tensing. He held the cat protectively, taking a step back, away from Gabe. “We’re not taking him there! I’m not sending him to one of those places, Gabe. I won’t.”
Gabe put his hands up, slouching a bit as his expression softened. “Okay,” he said, and then a little more gently: “Okay...”
Sam relaxed a little, staring down at the cat a bit sadly, and Gabe finally hopped down off the counter. “I’ll make some posters, I guess,” he offered. “But he can’t...stay here forever, you know.”
“Then we’ll just have to find who he belongs to,” Sam sighed.
Sam went to the local petstore, got a cheap litterbox and a bag of cat food, put everything in the supply closet and left the door open a cat-sized crack. Gabe drew up a sign informing customers about their visitor in big, bold letters and slapped it on the door -- “I a not ealing with a lawsuit if anyone’s throat closes up on us while they’re browsing the teen fiction section,” he said.
On the whole, the cat was quiet as it padded around the store, and a few customers stopped to pet it and fawn over its adorable doe-eyes. Gabe watched it the whole time, his eyes tracking it wherever it went, even when it fell asleep in the back corner of the store by the autobiographies.
“He’s pretty well-behaved,” Sam commented. Gabe just grunted. “So you’re really not a cat person, huh?”
“I told you, I don’t have a problem with them.”
“Then why do you keep looking at him like he’s going to eat you?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “I never wanted a damn cat, okay?” He huffed, and Sam moved behind the counter, pressing his chest to Gabe’s spine and rubbing his shoulders.
“It’s just for a little while. You know, until I can get those posters up and someone comes to get him.”
“Mmhmm,” Gabe hummed as he nodded, and Sam leaned in to kiss the shell of his ear.
“Thanks,” he said warmly.
“Yeah, yeah...”
Gabe was closing the shop for the day, turning off the lights and preparing to lock the door when a tiny meow caught his attention. He glanced down, and the cat was following him toward the front door, staring up at him. Gabe tried to push it back inside with his foot.
“Stay,” he said awkwardly, but the cat advanced again, meowing pitifully. Gabe looked from the cat to the interior of the store, so dark and cold and lonely...and then back down to the animal as it flicked its tail at him.
He sighed.
Sam stopped halfway down the stairs by the shop and leaned over the railing. “You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Gabe said, eyes still glued to the cat. “Uh...look, help me bring its bowls and stuff upstairs, would you?”
Sam’s eyebrows spiked up. “Upstairs?”
“Sure,” Gabe said with a shrug. “It’s kinda cold in there...don’t want the thing freezing before someone can come get it you know?” Sam smiled warmly, nodding and going to grab the cat’s things, and the whole time, the cat stared up at Gabe. He could have sworn it was smiling.
“Don’t get used to this, you got that you little furball?” he said. The cat meowed and rubbed against his legs.
As they made their way up the stairs, Gabe gingerly carrying the stacked bowls in his arms, the cat weaved between his feet, purring like a damn diesel engine. “Come on, cat cut it out. Kiddo, I swear if this thing makes me fall and break my neck I’ll blame you.”
The moment they opened the apartment door, the cat rushed in and perched itself on the couch, and Gabe had a sinking feeling that they were never going to get rid of it now.
Gabe giggled as Sam’s lips skimmed over his neck, the sound dissolving into a sigh as teeth grazed over his Adam’s apple, and he tangled his fingers into Sam’s long hair, fingernails raking over his scalp. He pressed his chin downward, capturing Sam’s lips in a searing kiss again and bending his knees, letting Sam settle further against his pelvis and thrusting up against him. The breathy groan he got in response made him grin widely against Sam’s mouth.
Sam’s hand blazed a hot trail down between their stomachs as he breathed out a lusty, “Mm...Gabe...” and Gabe bit his lip as his fingers dipped down below his navel, skimming across his hip bone and beyond.
“Ngh...kiddo, that’s...” He turned his head to the side and stopped short when he noticed a pair of gleaming green eyes staring at him intently.
Sam noticed Gabe’s sudden pause and pulled back, hair spilling wildly into his face as he asked, “Something wrong?”
Gabe tilted his head to one side, and the cat mirrored his actions from its place on the chair across the room.
“The cat,” he said.
“The cat?”
He pointed at the intruding feline and grimaced in distaste. “It’s staring at us.” Sam looked over and sighed.
“It’s not like he’s gonna judge us.”
Gabe pulled the blankets up to his chest as Sam rolled off of him. “Well, it’s freaking me out!”
“What do you want me to do about it?” Sam asked, running a hand through his unruly hair with a sigh.
“Get rid of it!”
Sam looked shocked. “Gabe-”
“Just get it out of the room!”
“Okay, okay...” Sam got up, shooing the cat away and gently nudging it out with his foot before closing the bedroom door and turning back toward the bed. He shrugged his shoulders in a silent “Is that good enough for you?” gesture. Gabe propped himself up on his elbows and grinned.
“Now where were he?” he asked, and Sam crawled up over him, leaning down to capture his lips in a deep kiss again. They quickly picked up where they left off, hips grinding together in tandem with their sighs and moans, hands fumbling at flesh and sheets-
Raaaaawr.
Gabe stopped again and glared at the closed door. “What was that?” he asked distastefully. Sam sighed again.
“He’s probably pissed we kicked him out.”
“That thing’s a damn pervert, sasquatch.”
“He’s cat What is he gonna do?”
Said cat began pawing incessantly at the door with a disgruntled yowl. “I swear I’m gonna turn that thing into shoes,” Gabe growled.
“Gabe-” Gabe turned his glare toward him, and Sam’s shoulders slumped. “Look, just...ignore it, okay? He’ll stop before too long...” To try and convince him, Sam leaned down and started placing open-mouthed kisses against Gabe’s neck, and Gabe hummed, slowly relaxing back against the bed and tuning out the sounds of the cat’s scratching at the door.
A few minutes later, just as the two of them were rolling over on the bed, Gabe straddling Sam’s hips and pressing kisses to his chest, another sound floated in from the living room. It sounded distinctly like a cat throwing up on the carpet, and Sam stopped mid-moan as Gabe looked up, shooting the glare to end all glares at the door.
“Gabe...”
“Don’t.”
“Look, I-”
“Don’t.”
Gabe rolled off and crossed his arms, and Sam sighed as he hauled himself off of the bed with a resigned, “I’ll go clean it up.”
Annoyed by the stain that he knew he would find on his carpet in the morning and frustrated by the deep throb of arousal that had once again failed to be satisfied, Gabe called after him, “And lock it in the bathroom for crying out loud!” before turning over and pressing his cheek angrily into the pillow.
It was the middle of the night when Gabe woke up again to the sound of paws on the door. With a groan, he sat up, rubbed his eyes and hoped that the cat would get the message and go curl up somewhere else, but as the minutes ticked by, it became painfully obvious that it wasn’t going to let up anytime soon.
Mumbling a curse or two at the entire feline population, he pulled the covers back and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, careful not to wake Sam, who slept on beside him. He padded over to the door, and the moment he opened it, the cat got up from where it had been sitting complacently on the carpet and began weaving between his legs. Gabe kicked it, lightly, nudging it toward the couch.
“What’s up with you, cat?” he muttered. “Do you want food? Water? What?” The cat just jumped up onto the couch and stared at him, its head cocked to one side. Gabe shooed it off the cushion at sat down, watching as it sat at his feet and curled its chestnut-tipped tail around its body, gazing at him with those damn glimmering eyes. Gabe entwined his fingers in his lap, slouching and staring at it until it felt like they were having a staring contest. For what it was worth, the cat blinked first.
“Okay,” he finally relented, sighing as he sat back and slung his arms over the back of the couch. “If you’re gonna stay here until someone comes to get you, we need to lay down a few ground rules.”
The cat purred.
“Number one-” He held up his index finger. “No interrupting me and Sam in the bedroom. If that door’s closed, it means we want our alone time, got that?” The cat stared at him a moment, and Gabe took it to mean yes. “Number two, no puking on the carpet. You managed to figure out how to take your business to the litter box, so you can damn well take your hairballs there too.”
It was a stroke of luck that the cat was housebroken, apparently. Though he supposed, if someone had gone through the trouble to get it fixed, it was going to know what the litter box was for.
“Number three,” Gabe said, but before he could finish, the cat hopped up onto the couch again, crawling onto his lap and beginning to knead. “Hey! Hey, hey hey! o!” He flailed a bit, trying to work out what to do with the damn furball, but it purred loudly and curled up on his thighs, its tail sweeping happily from side to side across his knee. Tentatively, he put one hand on the cat’s head, scratching behind its ear, and its eyes slid closed. Come to think of it, he was feeling a little tired himself, but looking down at the animal curled up in his lap, he found he couldn’t bring himself to shove it off.
It was half an hour before the cat shifted and he summoned up the willpower to gently nudge it off of his lap. It seemed to wake only momentarily before curling up on the couch cushion beside him, perfectly content. Gabe gave it one last fond scratch on the back of the neck before yawning and getting up, heading back to the bedroom.
That cat was dangerously close to winning him over.
“Posters are up,” Sam announced as he strode through the door of the shop the next afternoon. “I got Dean to give me a hand. Put them up all over the place a few miles out.”
Gabe looked up from watching the cat as it sat perched on the edge of the counter, flicking its tail. “What? Oh, great. Awesome.”
“You okay?”
“Fine. How long do you think it’ll be before someone comes looking?”
Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m assuming he was an indoor cat, so someone would know pretty much immediately if he went missing.” As he spoke, Sam scratched under the cat’s chin, and it lifted its head for him. “People will be looking. Hell, they might even be putting up their own posters and stuff. It’s just kind of a waiting game at this point, I guess.”
Gabe nodded noncommittally, and Sam leaned on the counter. “You sure you’re good?”
“Course I’m good. You know, besides sleep deprived. Damn cat kept me up last night.”
Of course, Gabe didn’t mention why this was. The last thing he wanted was for Sam to think he was getting attached.
“I’m sorry,” Sam said with a wince. “Look...thanks. You know, for letting him stay here a bit. I just...I really didn’t want to send him to a shelter.”
“Relax. I get it. Besides, it’s not all bad. I guess it is kinda cute.”
Sam chuckled. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed, and he began vigorously rubbing the cat’s neck and head, all the time crooning, “Yes you are...yes, you’re a cute boy, aren’t you?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, cut it out before I puke.”
A week passed, and they got no response. Nobody came looking, nobody called, and nobody emailed. They were beginning to think that maybe the cat had been abandoned, and it made it that much harder to think about giving it up when the time came. It was late on a Tuesday evening when Sam brought it up again, the cat curled up on his lap as he sat next to Gabe on the couch.
“Maybe we should name him,” he offered.
“Don’t you think whoever he belongs to already did that?”
“Well they’re not here right now. And we don’t know when or even if they’ll show up-”
“They will, sasquatch,” Gabe assured him. “It’s just a matter of time.” He sighed, seeing Sam’s crestfallen expression. “You really like that furball, don’t you?”
“I guess,” Sam said as he rubbed his hand over the cat’s back. It let out a soft sigh under his touch. “I just...I remember this one time when I was about eight, and Dean and I found this kitten curled under a park bench in December.” He got a wistful, almost nostalgic look in his eye, his fingers lightly scratching the cat’s belly. “It was freezing out, so we took her home, fed her cold cuts for a week and hid it from Dad. But we couldn’t forever, and when he found out, he insisted we take her to a shelter. Dean and I begged and begged, but...” Another long sigh. “But we couldn’t take care of a cat, you know? We had to give her up.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe found himself saying, and Sam surprised him by smiling.
“It’s fine,” he assured him, and he looked down at the sleepy cat in his lap again. “I’m just glad we can do something good for this little guy. Give him a real home, at least until his actual owner gets here.”
They fell silent, and the cat opened its eyes, got up from Sam’s lap and made its way over to Gabe’s. Gabe didn’t move, just let it knead against his thighs until it got comfortable and lay down. Sam smiled warmly.
“I think he likes you,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah...So what are we gonna call him anyway?”
“You actually want to name him?” Sam asked, smiling like a child on Christmas.
“Well, sure. Temporarily at least. I mean, we can’t keep calling him ‘cat.’”
Sam hummed thoughtfully as Gabe scratched behind the cat’s ear, and then he finally said, “How about...Loki?”
“Loki?” Gabe questioned, quirking one eyebrow. “You mean like the Norse god?”
“Well sure. He looks like a Loki, doesn’t he?”
Gabe hoisted the cat up to eye level. “What do you think, furball? How does Loki sound to you?”
The cat meowed, and it was decided.
For the next three weeks, they didn’t speak anymore about the cat’s living situation, aside from a few short-lived arguments about which brand of cat food to get and which kitty litter to use. Loki spent his days in the shop, exploring the shelves and wooing customers, and in the evenings, he followed Gabe and Sam up the stairs to the apartment where he curled up on the couch, or on the foot of their bed when Gabe was feeling generous. They fell into a routine, comfortable and increasingly familiar, and it was a cloudy morning in early February when the subject came up again.
“Loki,” Gabe chimed, patting his hand on the countertop, and the cat came bounding over, leaping up onto the counter and pushing its nose up under his palm to let him scratch its head as it began to purr.
The store hadn’t been open for more than a half hour when a woman wandered in, her hair long and tangled, tucked into the back of her heavy winter coat. Her gaze fell on Loki, and her eyes went wide.
“Can I help you?” Gabe asked amicably, still absently scritching at the cat’s neck, its tail wrapping around his arm.
“Oh my god,” the woman breathed. “You did find him.”
Gabe stopped his scratching and blinked as Sam emerged from the back, brushing dust off of his jeans. “Find who?” Sam asked. The woman looked flustered.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Sorry it took so long, I mean. I didn’t see your posters until my sister brought me one the other day. She said she’d been here, thought the cat looked familiar. I’d given up a few weeks ago...Thought he was dead.”
“You’re his owner,” Sam said as it clicked in his mind, and the woman nodded.
“Like I said, I’m sorry you waited so long. I hope you haven’t been bothered.”
“Not at all,” said Gabe, hiding a slight tinge of sadness in his voice. “He’s been a complete and utter angel. Well...mostly.” He smiled a bit down at the cat. “Sort of become a shop cat.”
The woman matched his smile. “He does seem really happy.”
“Are you...here to take him back?” Sam asked a bit dejectedly, and the woman pursed her lips.
“Actually...” she began, rubbing her hands together. “Actually I just wanted to thank you.”
“For?” Gabe asked.
“For taking such good care of him.” After a beat, she sighed, and continued, “When my sister came and told me he was here, and brought me the poster, she said he seemed really at home. I have four small children -- I don’t think Mouser ever liked it at our house, so when he ran away, I wasn’t surprised, really, but I was worried sick. But he seems so happy here...” She smiled. “And you two seem like you’re really fond of him.”
“Yeah,” Sam mused, scratching under Loki’s jaw.
“Well...I don’t want to inconvenience you, but I guess...if you wanted him to stay, I’d feel better knowing he was in a good home than thinking he was unhappy.”
Sam’s face lit up magnificently, and Gabe looked up at the woman with an intent stare. “You saying you’re giving him to us?”
“Only if you want,” she assured him. “He’s had all his shots, and he’s fixed. I really think he’s taken with you...”
“Well we’re definitely taken with him,” Gabe offered, looking down at the cat again. “So if you’re really okay with it...we’ll take good care of him.”
The woman nodded in acceptance. “Alright,” she said. “By the way, if I could ask, did you give him a new name?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Loki.”
“Loki...” she mused. “I think it fits him.” She reached out to pat Loki’s head, and Loki licked her hand. She seemed surprised, but then she smiled. “Thank you again,” she said. “Really.”
“You can come and visit anytime you like,” Gabe added when she was halfway out the door, and her smile widened as she waved at all three of them.
And just like that, Tall Tales welcomed its newest member.
Gabe squirmed on top of Sam, cocking a half-grin as Sam wrapped his arms tighter around him, arching up off the bed to press their hips together. Gabe’s name tumbled breathily from between Sam’s lips, and Gabe smirked wider, kissing down Sam’s neck, over his sternum, across the flat plane of his stomach and beyond, disappearing under the covers.
Sam let out a strangled half-moan, tangling his fingers in Gabe’s hair and gasping loudly. Gabe chuckled, and Sam let his head fall back on the pillow, his head falling to the side. He paused, going stiff.
“Something the matter, kiddo?” Gabe asked as he poked his head out from beneath the sheets.
“No, I just...” He stared at the cat gazing at him from across the room, its head canted to one side. “Just...just hang on a minute.” He got up unceremoniously from under the covers, heading across the room and nudging Loki out the door before closing it.
“I thought that didn’t bug you,” Gabe teased as Sam crawled over the bed again.
“Shut up.”
There was no scratching at the door that night, but when they woke the next morning and sipped their coffee at the kitchen table, they could have sworn Loki was grinning at them knowingly from his perch on the counter.