Mr. Handsome #2
Soren settled into his hold, giving him a long, speculative look while he was at it. Gabe did have a gorgeous, strong, tanned neck.
Gabe shook his head, leading Soren to the door with a “Cats” sign over it. “No, brat.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
Gabe sighed as they made their way into the feline wing. “Why is everyone in this den such a fucking perv?”
“You were eating my ass like a starved man barely an hour ago, so are you really one to talk?”
Gabe choked on his tongue as they walked into the large room where the cats were kept, but that was what he got for pretending to be a prude.
There was a volunteer inside, showing a family a tubby calico the children were clearly already smitten with.
“Now there are children present,” Soren said quietly, pinching Gabe’s side and stepping out of his hold. “So behave, Highness.”
They perused the room. It had a big open area with cat trees and toys, and large cages along the walls. All of them were double-decker, with plenty of room for their occupants to stretch out and play. Some cats were kept with friends; some were housed alone.
Soren stopped in front of one that held a giant behemoth of a cat, his fur various shades of gray. He had the meanest face Soren had ever seen on a feline, and only one eye. The sign said he was seven years old, not good with other pets, and not a fan of children.
“Well, who’s going to want this one?” Soren asked.
The cat blinked his good eye at him but didn’t otherwise acknowledge Soren’s presence. Soren frowned at him. “Don’t you know if you’re going to be mean, you have to be pretty?”
Gabe wrapped an arm around Soren’s waist again, dropping his chin on top of Soren’s head. “Foisting beauty standards on a cat, are we?”
“His search for a home is basically a popularity contest,” Soren argued, tilting his chin at the calico cat who was rubbing up against his new family members’ shins. “I don’t make the rules.”
He tapped gently at the cage with one finger, making a face at the cat, whose card said his name was Bubba. “Look alive,” he whispered.
Gabe gave his middle a squeeze. “You know, if you wanted…”
Soren gave him a disbelieving look. “You think I want a mangy cat?”
It was an absurd thought. Soren was fond enough of Ferdy, but that was more in the capacity of Soren being a distant, stylish uncle rather than some sort of animal caregiver.
But he couldn’t get Bubba—and what a horrible name to give a cat—out of his mind, even after they’d gone back outside and joined the others. “The thing is,” he found himself saying to Danny, “Jay is going to be so devastated when no one adopts him.”
Danny smiled at him over his iced tea. “So you’ve said. But it’s inevitable that some animals will be here longer than others.”
That sounded like a defeatist mindset to Soren. He opened his mouth to say so when Eric and Wolfe arrived.
Danny’s eyes widened as he saw what Eric held. “You got him?”
Eric stroked the head of the little wiry-haired dog. “A compromise. We’re fostering him. Jay said he’s still pretty timid with humans, so some time in a home might help.”
“That’s amazing!” Danny gushed. “He and Ferdy can have playdates. It’ll help socialize him.”
“You think?”
Soren sidled over to Wolfe, whose eyes were on his mate, as they always were. “I didn’t take you for such a sucker,” Soren said, keeping his voice low.
“I know how to keep my mate content,” Wolfe said evenly. There had to be some truth in that—Eric was beaming. Wolfe’s lips twitched up in a small smile, something hungry gleaming in his eyes. “And my Eric is particularly endearing when he’s feeling…grateful.”
The sentiment was almost sweet—at least by Wolfe’s standards—but something about the way Wolfe said it gave Soren the shivers. “The way you love Eric is kind of scary. Did you know that?”
Wolfe nodded smoothly. “Yes. I’m aware.”
“Cool.” Soren made to pat him on the back, then thought better of it, drawing his hand back. “Just making sure.”
Soren’s attention was immediately taken back up by Gabe, who was off to the side, talking intently to one of the volunteers. She was a pretty girl somewhere in her early twenties, trying to contain her blush while Soren’s handsome mate spoke to her.
Soren marched over, ready to cause a minor bit of trouble if necessary. He wasn’t jealous, exactly—Gabe knew where home was. But sometimes it was best to make sure everyone else knew it too.
And if it got Gabe calling him “brat” in public, giving him placating kisses where everyone could see…
Well, all the better.
Soren wrapped a hand around Gabe’s bicep, grinning widely at the volunteer in a way he knew was unsettling before pressing himself into Gabe’s side. “Not trying to copy Eric and foster a raggedy mutt, are we?”
Gabe wrapped an absent-minded arm around him, studying the paperwork the volunteer had given to him, not even noticing the way she scurried off under Soren’s watchful gaze. “I’m asking about adoption.”
Soren rolled his eyes. “What did we say about animal fur on my couture?”
“I thought you might have changed your mind about that.”
“Moi?” Soren asked, pressing a hand to his chest.
Gabe’s gaze softened as he turned it to Soren. “If you want the cat, it’s fine with me. I don’t mind pets.”
Soren frowned at him. “Why would I want a mangy old cat, who doesn’t even know how to look cute for company?”
Gabe shrugged but tucked the paperwork into his back pocket, grinning when Soren’s frown deepened. “Just in case.”
Soren slipped out of his hold and walked off, dumbfounded. He made his way over to Roman, who gave him a knowing look as Soren let out a loud huff.
“What did the brother do now?”
“He thinks I want a cat.”
Roman arched a brow. “Do you?”
“No,” Soren scoffed. “I was just worrying no one else is going to want him, is all. He’s ugly. And old. And kind of mean-looking. But he doesn’t hiss or anything.” He bit at his lip, considering. “He’s probably sweet underneath.”
“Mm. An animal like that could still be a hard sell.”
Soren narrowed his eyes at his friend. Roman wasn’t fooling him with that neutral tone. He was trying to encourage him, just like Gabe. Soren huffed a frustrated breath. “Their lives are so short. What’s the point?”
“They are short,” Roman conceded, making eyes at his mate across the small crowd of people. “But there is a certain joy in giving them as much love as you can while you can. Or that is how my Danny explains it.”
“Love has made you sappy,” Soren accused.
“Just me?” Roman countered, a mocking tilt to his lips.
Asshole.
But Soren found himself back in front of the cat cages sometime later, where the same friendly volunteer from earlier smiled at him. “Want to hold him?”
Soren let out a breath, wanting to say something snarky but finding himself nodding instead. “Yes. Please.”
The volunteer opened the cage for him, taking Bubba—not that Soren would be calling him that—into her arms and holding him out to Soren.
Soren had been right. The cat didn’t yowl or hiss or claw, just narrowed his eyes at both of them. Suspicious of newcomers, maybe. As he should be.
Soren took him from the volunteer. “You’re heavy,” he accused, holding the cat up to his eyeline. His one eye was yellow, which Soren supposed was kind of cool. It wasn’t a color one saw in humans, anyway.
“The vet will probably want him on a diet,” the volunteer told him.
Soren immediately hunched protectively over Not-Bubba. “He doesn’t need a diet. He’s just big-boned. And he’s old—let him live his life.”
The volunteer laughed, as if Soren had said something funny, and then left to help another family.
Jay wandered in some time later, catching Soren with Not-Bubba on his lap, both of them looking at—but not playing with—a selection of cat toys. “Soren!” he exclaimed. “You’re holding a cat!”
Soren stroked Not-Bubba gently above his nose, enjoying the way he blinked his one eye slowly at the touch. “I am.”
“Um…” Jay stood still above them, looking confused. “Do you want me to take him from you?”
“No.” Soren sighed, the weight of the world on his shoulders. “He’s coming home with me,” he admitted. “He’s too ugly to stay here—it’ll ruin your whole aesthetic.”
He knew he was acting like a fool, but it was hard to be mad about it. Not when, for the first time, a faint rumbling began emanating from the cat.
He was purring.
Sometime later Soren was at the front desk, a large cat carrier in hand, Gabe grinning down at him, looking weirdly proud.
Soren scowled at him. “Don’t be smug.”
“I’m not,” Gabe said smugly.
“I’m in charge of cute cat accessories. You’re in charge of the litter box.”
“Fine by me.”
“You’re still looking smug.”
Gabe dropped a kiss on Soren’s lips. “It’s okay to want the cat, brat. What are you going to name him?”
Soren sniffed haughtily. “Certainly not Bubba.”
Gabe
Gabe tossed his house keys on the counter, feeling refreshed. He’d just had a run with Eric in the woods, their first since the shelter’s opening.
They were both too fast for the foster dog to keep up with, so Eric had carried the little guy in a backpack, ramping up his speed slowly, making sure it wasn’t scaring him. It had been ridiculous and sweet and had put Gabe in a weirdly good mood.
Almost as ridiculous as their run was finding Soren standing in front of their couch, a ball of yarn in hand, lecturing Mr. Handsome, aka Not-Bubba, aka the cat he liked to claim he wasn’t obsessed with.
Soren hadn’t been able to decide on an official name in the last week, but he’d taken to calling the cat Mr. Handsome, supposedly to increase his “tattered self-esteem,” and the nickname was threatening to stick.
“This is my yarn,” Soren was telling the cat. “I use it to crochet. If you eat it, you’ll end up in the cat hospital, and that’ll ruin both our days. Got it?”
Mr. Handsome purred.
Soren huffed at him and sat down, waiting patiently as Mr. Handsome climbed laboriously onto his lap, curling up there immediately. Soren set his yarn next to them, grabbing his crochet hook. “Nice run, Highness?”
“It was perfect,” Gabe told him with a grin, leaning against the doorway. “How are my guys?”
Soren shot him a disapproving look. “Don’t put me on the same level as a mangy cat,” he scolded, scratching Mr. Handsome under the chin. “But we’re good. It’s movie time.”
“Can I join?” Gabe asked.
Soren was always gorgeous. Always perfect.
Always enticing. But there was something about him at his most domestic like this—in his crocheted matching set, getting ready to watch some ridiculous movie while he crafted another item of clothing, his easy contentment radiating through the bond—that got to Gabe in particular.
It was a side of Soren he knew very few people had been lucky enough to see before recent years, and Gabe hoped he never forgot to be grateful that he was one of them.
Soren smirked at him. “I suppose.”
Gabe settled next to him on the couch, frowning down at Mr. Handsome. Normally Gabe would be lying down, his head on Soren’s lap, but the cat was in the way.
It was fine though. Mr. Handsome also spent a lot of time on his insanely expensive cat tree, staring at the birds out the window. It wasn’t like Gabe was deprived or anything.
“Stop moping,” Soren told him, nudging Gabe with his knee. “We spent all morning in bed together.”
Gabe threw an arm around Soren, tugging him in close, dropping his head onto Soren’s and inhaling his cool, soothing scent. “I’m not moping.”
Soren started the movie, and the three of them watched in silence.
A long time later, Soren let out a quiet, “Thank you.”
Gabe raised his head, confused. “For what?”
“For knowing me.” Soren’s eyes were on the movie, but he was petting Mr. Handsome in long, even strokes.
Gabe kissed the top of Soren’s head.
It had been obvious his mate wouldn’t be happy leaving the shelter without the cat. Gabe wasn’t sure why Soren had been resisting it, but it was probably tied up in his past.
Maybe Soren had never considered a pet before, moving constantly from place to place the way he’d been doing before Hendrick was taken care of.
Or maybe he had thought he didn’t have the personality to be a caretaker, even of an animal, still thinking of himself as too shallow or selfish to be capable of it.
Because that was Soren’s big secret, one he tried to keep from himself as well as everyone else. The huge, tender heart he was hiding under all that sass.
Not that it was a secret to anyone in the den—not anymore. There was no question about Soren’s loyalty, his care for those who were able to get under his skin. Which was a mighty high number of people these days.
Mr. Handsome was lucky to have him. As was Gabe.
“You’re welcome, brat.” Gabe dropped another kiss to Soren’s head, just because. “Knowing you is my favorite thing.”