Work Text:
Roier was having a lazy day. He had a lot of those recently, though never for the same reasons.
Typically, his main encouragement to take time for himself was his son. Bobby’s death affected him greatly; His time alone had increased tenfold, far past the point of concern, he had no energy for most social interactions, no drive to leave his home, no motivation to try to improve. Why bother when everyone gazed at him with pity in their eyes anyway?
Of course, there were people that checked up on him — this community was too thoughtful to let him fall apart on his own. They made sure his lazy days weren’t quite as destructive as they might otherwise have been. For that he appreciated them greatly. A few of the regulars included Jaiden, Bad, and Cellbit.
Cellbit was the most interesting of these people. He had been for a while.
He was always busy, and yet he made time for Roier. He had lost friends and family of his own, but at Roier’s lowest point, he hadn’t belittled his feelings once. The island did everything it could to rip their happiness away, and through it all, Cellbit stayed beside him. He was unbelievably important.
Roier would venture so far as to say they were teetering on the edge of something bigger. Something more than just associates in madness and grief. Something more than anything he had experienced before.
But teetering on the edge was all they’d been doing, and it was killing him.
Roier could feel the tension in the air, see the way the other’s hands twitched with anticipation around him. He knew he wasn’t imagining the subtle ways Cellbit would move closer to him in conversation, his eyes constantly darting to the lower part of Roier’s face. Still, nothing ever became of it.
Albeit a bit unfairly, he blamed Cellbit for chickening out. There were several instances when it had seemed on the tip of his tongue, but he hadn’t let it out. Their relationship was stuck in a limbo of doubt and pain, blissful and dangerous at the same time. Roier couldn’t stand the in-between, the not-knowing, but he couldn’t fix it himself. Despite all the context clues, he couldn’t get past the anxiety of potential rejection.
If Roier weren’t grieving his son, if Cellbit weren’t tearing himself to pieces trying to find Felps, if they both weren’t so close to crumbling at the slightest sign of heartbreak, he would demand the waiting process be over already. He would demand they get to the point. He would demand one of them close the fucking distance — do anything!
So, after another night of seeing those hopelessly pretty blue eyes in his dreams, he resigned himself to a lazy day. It wasn’t his dead son, or Spreen’s betrayal, or the stress of the Federation pressing down on him – Cellbit was his reason this time. That stupidly smart Brazilian and his stupidly beautiful smile had overloaded Roier’s brain. He wouldn’t leave his home for fear of catching another glimpse and ruining himself forever.
Roier went through his usual daily routine, though he kept his wardrobe comfy. His home was cold when it was this empty, but he padded along as if it didn’t bother him. Roier ate a simple breakfast, hair still wet from his shower, and then wandered his way up to the third story. Its walls were covered from floor to ceiling in memories of his son, and it had become his designated thinking spot through his time of grief. He let himself sprawl out on the couch.
Eventually, someone would notice his absence and come for him. Roier found himself hoping for one person in particular, as much as that defeated the purpose of his momentary escape. For the time being, he was alone with only his thoughts. He stretched his hand up to the ceiling, doing his best not to imagine what it would look like intertwined with a certain Brazilian’s callused palm.
He failed, as usual, and let out a loud groan of frustration. Roier wanted to sink into the couch cushions and never emerge.
So fucking annoying.
A small scratching sound caught his ears, drawing him out of his daze. He sat up, scanning the room. No bugs seemed to be buzzing around, and none of his things could have made such a noise. Bobby’s animals had been moved to a more spacious location, so what could it be?
He stood, spinning around in search of the source. It came again, and he whirled to face the window.
Roier’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of a tabby cat waiting for him. It was perched politely on the outdoor ledge, a fluffy tail swishing around behind it. One paw was raised, as if poised to scratch again.
He sucked in a slightly horrified breath.
They were currently located on the third floor, high above the ground. A fall from such a height would be fatal to an animal so small. The climb itself should’ve been impossible, and yet somehow a cat had managed. Roier rushed over, cursing as he threw open the window. The furry creature made absolutely no move to protest as he picked it up by the scruff of its neck and dragged it inside.
“Hijo de puta— What the fuck,” he muttered, closing the window and scanning the cat for any injuries. Or maybe signs of rabies. The thing had to have something wrong with it. “Are you fucking crazy, man?”
The cat had the decency to look a little abashed, like it knew what it had done. Roier was tempted to shake it around, get his point across. Unfortunately, his heart was too soft to allow him any cruelty towards the thing. He knew other people in his life, specifically on this island, that were not so kind to animals. The eyeliner darkening his face proved as much. He could never sink to their level.
The cat in his hold had yet to break eye contact with him. It was entranced, stunned. Roier’s throat tightened underneath the bright blue of its irises. They were intense, more so than was common for cats. Today in particular, he found it to be rather unnerving. He recalled flashes of his dream, and his hopeful delusion of waking up next to horrifically similar blue eyes. Roier had to shake himself to keep from falling back into his head.
“How did you get up here,” he hissed. The tabby tilted its head, the only answer he would be getting. There was nothing inherently malicious about the gesture, or its appearance at his window in general. It was innocent, undeserving of his worried rage. Roier was too weak to hold a grudge, didn’t have it in him to stay mad — not during a lazy day. He sighed, “Who do you even belong to? You shouldn’t do that again.”
The cat shifted, visibly a little uncomfortable with its hanging position. Although, it didn’t whine or attempt to scratch him, which was strange. Feral cats had attacked for lesser reasons. Something about this animal in particular felt… tame. He couldn’t figure out why.
Roier relented, adjusting carefully and pulling it closer to his chest. Almost instantly upon contact, the creature released a surprised chirp. Its tail poofed, and he felt a thrumming purr start to emit from it. The best word to describe the look on its face was embarrassed.
But that didn’t make sense for an animal, did it? Cats weren’t supposed to have readable feelings. Roier was no expert, far from it, but they were described as rather monotone creatures. The only instances he could recall in which a cat was presented in a good light was when the story was told by a human it absolutely adored.
The man was perplexed. He didn’t know this animal, nor did he have the skills necessary to make himself seem trustworthy. There was nothing in his DNA that could influence the opinions of a feline. Spiders and cats weren’t exactly friends in nature. Roier wasn’t the best at dealing with cats either on a personal level, having never owned one. So then why was this fluff ball being so friendly? Was it nice instinctually? Did it not understand the cruel reality it lived in? Was it just stupid?
He absently scratched behind the cat’s ears. The purring sound grew louder. “Ah, you are a strange bastard, aren’t you? Climbing so far for attention.”
The cat didn’t deny it — couldn’t deny it — but it did shoot him a guilty look. Once again, Roier was brought back to the thought of Cellbit’s eyes. Sighing, Roier set the cat down on one end of the couch and face-planted on the other. His heart rate was too fast for such a pathetic reason. He needed a distraction or all the blood would rush to his brain and kill him.
“You’re too cute for your own good, cábron,” he muttered into his blankets. Roier wasn’t sure if it was directed towards the cat or the illusion rattling through his skull. For the millionth time, he remembered why his situation with Cellbit was one of the few things that warranted a lazy day from him.
The cat mewled, and he flipped around to stare at it. The tiny creature was shifting from foot to foot, like it was worried about disrupting his space. Roier melted a bit.
“Hola, gatito.” He reached over and stroked at the tabby’s fur. It leaned into his touch subconsciously, its eyes slipping closed to enjoy the feeling. The deep, rumbling purr returned. The sound numbed his whirling mind, and encouraged peace through his roaring nerves. Roier liked how it filled the silence of the room, kinda wished it was always there.
It didn’t seem to be going anywhere. The cat didn’t have a collar. No one was knocking on his door asking for it back. Roier was currently lacking the energy to leave his house and scour the island for its owner. If the circumstances changed later, he could adapt.
“Do you need a home, gatito?” The cat bumped its head against his hand, a little too focused Roier’s fingers combing through its fur to really hear him. He took it as confirmation, smiling. “Bueno, you can stay with me! My bed is too big for one person anyway.”
At this, the cat paused, eyes opening wide.
“What is that look for,” Roier hummed. “You don’t like the idea?”
To his amusement, the cat jolted. Its purring increased tenfold. Roier laughed as the creature leaned further into the hand on its head and meowed. He cooed, a wave of overwhelming fondness crashing through him. It was everything he needed on such a gloomy afternoon.
Wait, afternoon?
Roier fished his communicator out of his pocket and checked the clock. Sure enough, it was well-past lunch time. Usually, someone would’ve come by to see him before then. His lazy days were never so devoid of life. Had they not noticed his absence yet? Did he miss them knocking on his door or vwooping through his waystone?
Roier tried not to let it bother him and turned back to his communicator. He discovered a series of messages that had been sent while he was distracted.
[BadBoyHalo] Hey, Roier! Have you seen Cellbit?
At the reminder of Cellbit, Roier almost groaned. He had been so close to clearing his head, but the Brazilian couldn’t leave him be. His mind was flooded with memories of that beautiful face and of late nights spent brainstorming theories together. Roier had to will himself to keep reading.
[BadBoyHalo] Actually, nvm
[BadBoyHalo] That’s not important
[BadBoyHalo] Have you seen a cat anywhere?
Roier’s heart sank. This was arguably worse than the revitalization of his crush. He enjoyed the brief moment of companionship the cat provided. None of Bobby’s animals were ever so sweet to him. It reminded him of his dog, and served to choke him up a little.
The cat watched him, head tilted and face pleading for attention. It would make sense for such a polite animal to belong to Bad, as much as he disliked the thought. The whole thing was a shame, but he couldn’t steal someone else’s pet, right?
Bad probably had more love to give, and his son was an avid hoarder of anything that moved. Theirs was a home bursting with energy, something Roier couldn’t provide often. He pulled his knees up to his chest while he responded.
[Roier] Sí, the cat is with me right now
He hesitated, but followed it up with a second message.
[Roier] Do you want it back?
Bad’s icon appeared, typing his response.
[BadBoyHalo] If you wouldn’t mind :P
[BadBoyHalo] Oh wait Dapper just placed a sign
It took a few minutes for the next messages to come through.
[BadBoyHalo] He says ‘if the cat found you, he probably doesn’t want to leave’
[BadBoyHalo] So we don’t need him back :D
“Wait, seriously,” he said aloud. A thrill ran up Roier’s spine, and he brightened immensely. He hadn’t expected Bad to be feeling so generous today, nor for Dapper to be willing to give up something he obviously cared enough to search for.
Roier was slightly conflicted by the idea of ripping the furry creature from its home, but he wouldn’t complain. He hadn’t taken care of a cat before. It would be difficult, and a whole new responsibility. Somehow, that didn’t scare him as much as it once might have.
“That’s nice of Bad. And we learned you’re a boy, gatito,” Roier chuckled. The cat blinked slowly up at him. He would have to think of a name. “A very cute boy. Muy lindo.”
[BadBoyHalo] Dapper would like you to pass on a message though
[BadBoyHalo] tell him ‘it’ll wear off soon’
Roier didn’t quite understand. He hurried to reply.
[Roier] Que???
[Roier] Tell the CAT????
Bad stopped responding. Roier put his communicator back in his pocket and turned to the cat. The little guy was curled up against his side, purring. He seemed to be needy, the type of pet that desired quite a lot of attention. It wouldn’t be hard for Roier to provide him with that – especially when he needed an excuse to get away from the world. These days, he was a homebody anyway.
He sighed, a mix of contentment and sadness. The cat’s ear twitched at the noise, and it chirped inquiringly. Roier must’ve been deep in his delusions to consider responding to an animal, but after a beat, he gave in, “It is nothing, gatito. I’m having a difficult time.”
Roier scratched under the cat’s chin, and the creature had to fight to keep its eyes open.
“Aye,” Roier groaned. He dropped his hand and slid further down the cushions, disrupting his new friend’s cuddling. “You remind me of him.”
The cat trilled, but Roier’s brain had already moved along.
“By the way,” he started. “Dapper says it’ll wear off soon. No clue why I have to say that to a cat, but Dapper is a weird kid.”
Roier glanced over at him. He caught the little guy staring off into the distance, looking like he was just as full of thoughts as his human was. The trance broke when Roier tickled the end of the tabby’s tail. It swished back and forth.
Roier felt his eyes drooping a bit, worn out from doing absolutely nothing all morning. The cat noticed too, craning its neck to watch the rise and fall of his chest. It wouldn’t be an awful thing to get a little bit of sleep. Roier figured it wouldn’t be long before someone came to check on him – they could wake him. With that, he dozed off into a hopefully-dreamless unconsciousness.
~~~~
Cellbit wasn’t in any place to be taking breaks.
Every day, he was getting closer to unraveling the mysteries of Quesadilla Island, getting closer to finding his best friend. It was a waste of time to spend eight hours of his day sleeping or making intricate meals for himself. The only moments he could afford to step away were when Richarlyson needed him.
Roier was also an exception.
The man in question had been going through particularly rough times. It was impossible to describe the grief that Cellbit felt at the loss of Bobby; He couldn’t even comprehend what Roier dealt with on a daily basis. He could put himself in those shoes, imagining it was Richas who had been taken from him, but it wouldn’t compare.
To not be able to hold his son – his child – anymore because of some bullshit code and far-out dungeon would be a hell beyond human understanding. Cellbit wasn’t sure if he would fight the Federation twice as hard, or shut down completely. Which is why Roier’s bad days were entirely valid responses to his situation.
Cellbit would hear from the other man more often than not, but when he didn’t, he knew one of those days were upon them. He traded the responsibilities with Jaiden and Bad, though the former was far less likely to be mentally stable enough to help. With them supporting him, Roier was able to somewhat recover from his slumps, eating proper food and drinking water.
Honestly, Cellbit wished he could be there to assist him whenever it was necessary. Roier was special, and not in the same way that the people in the favela were special or that Richas was special. Being around Roier made his heart squeeze in his chest. It made him want to do anything the man asked of him. It made him weak, and strong, and everything in between.
He never felt smarter than the times he was able to answer Roier’s questions, or when those big, brown eyes gave him their complete attention. Cellbit was a nervous man – doubtful and anxious and paranoid – but Roier never scorned him because of it. He was always willing to listen, to lend a hand, even though he was dealing with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Unfortunately, Cellbit couldn’t always be around. Felps was extremely important to him, and too long spent away from his desk made his brain itch to return. He couldn’t care for another individual fully if he was in that state of mind. It was with a great reluctance that he occasionally handed his duties over to the other two.
This was not supposed to be one of those days.
The second he had discovered Roier was radio silent – this being deduced after meeting with Bad for tea at the favelas, Dapper and Richas giggling and being demonic in an adjacent room – he had intended to head over. Fate had different plans for him, though.
Cellbit made a mistake. In a hurry to get going, he picked up the wrong cup and downed the contents. Bad hadn’t noticed in time to warn him, and the mischievous look on Dapper’s face as he said goodbye to his son failed to set off any red flags. He was a little more than halfway to Roier’s place when it happened.
An incredible heat overtook him out of nowhere. He’d paused beneath a tree to recover, pain flaring through his muscles and forcing his eyes shut. Cellbit was confused to find the world significantly bigger than it had been previously once he re-opened them. He only figured out what exactly had happened upon glancing into a nearby stream of water.
Somehow, his strange drink had transformed him into a fucking cat.
At that point, he was out of options. Home was too far, his communicator had disappeared alongside his clothes, and he had no clue how to use a waystone with paws. Cellbit came to the conclusion that he would have to go through with meeting Roier. The other man would be able to help him, or at least get him in contact with Bad.
He had forgotten, in the middle of this debacle, that Roier was in no state to do anything. Cellbit was only able to remember this after his scratching at the door had been fruitless, and he’d resorted to scaling the house’s wall. He knew where Roier went during his slumps – where he would curl up and try to block out his problems.
That was how Cellbit had ended up in his current predicament. Roier was asleep on the couch, and he was still stuck as a cat. Not that he was terribly worried about the latter half of the situation anymore. Dapper’s message meant it was a temporary problem.
Roier was peaceful in the midst of his rest. Cellbit was completely content to watch his steady breathing, and take in the sight of his face devoid of distressed creases. The minutes leading up to his unconsciousness had dragged the Brazilian through a wider range of emotion than he’d known himself capable; Sadness at the bags under his eyes, embarrassment at the feline instincts that came forth, and a much stronger feeling when Roier had said the cat reminded him of someone – he would avoid digging into that part of himself.
This second of calm made it all worth it. He was purring again. This range of expression wasn’t something he’d experienced until encountering Roier in his new form. It seemed to be involuntary, showing itself when he was flustered or happy. Unfortunately, that described his entire state of being if Roier was anywhere near him.
In fact, today, Roier was closer to him than he’d ever been before. He was sitting atop the object of his affection’s stomach, a hand on his back to keep him trapped there. Their flirtatious jokes had gotten them into some complicated situations, but never anything like this. Cellbit felt guilty for how much he treasured the close proximity.
His tail flicked at the direction of his thoughts. He couldn’t help it. Roier had been so soft to the cat version of Cellbit. The Mexican clearly adored animals, clearly wanted to keep him close, clearly needed a companion to heal his heart. For as much as Cellbit wished this could be happening while he was human, it was a perfect arrangement.
The whole morning was probably a stupid fantasy conjured by Cellbit’s tired brain. He wouldn’t be surprised – it had created some unbelievable scenarios. It didn’t help that he was sleep deprived and emotionally pent up. It didn’t help that his breaks from decoding puzzles were spent by Roier’s side, desperately straining to keep from leaning in and kissing him.
Cellbit was someone who could devote himself entirely to his work. He could go for days without stopping to consider his own well-being, and remain cold and analytical in the face of terrifying realities. Roier was, yet again, the rare exception to this. Cellbit didn’t know what happened to him around the other man. He would stammer, grow red in the face, and forget every bit of knowledge he would’ve otherwise possessed.
He was useless when it came to the agony in his heart. Useless to control it, tamp it down. Unable to keep it pruned, neat, tucked away like he did the rest of his thoughts. He just couldn’t manage it. Roier was etched into the fabric of his being, borderline obsessively invading his waking hours. It was innocent until it wasn’t — until Roier would try those same flirtatious jokes on his friends, until Roier would give his attention to someone beyond him, until Roier couldn’t be completely fixed by Cellbit’s presence alone.
Pondering it for half a moment had him spiraling slightly into self-made hallucinations. And still, Cellbit had the undying urge to let it fester in his mind for the rest of his life. Roier wasn’t perfect — no one on that godforsaken could be — but he fit so snugly in the crevices of his heart. He was the balance and humor Cellbit needed when usually only morose entities dared to haunt him.
It scared him to see Roier coping unhealthily after the death of Bobby. He feared he would lose this person he cared so much about. If not physically, then certainly in every other possible way. No one should have to go through such pain, such devastation. Cellbit wanted to fill the gaps, to whisper sweet words that could overpower the cruel voices in Roier’s head. But he couldn’t. All he could do was be nearby, remind him to eat, sleep, and drink. He would do all of those things even through his largest ailment yet.
Currently, it was an hour and a half past noon. He knew well how forgetful Roier could be during his slumps, and that he definitely hadn’t eaten lunch. If Cellbit had hands, he would prepare the meal himself. He didn’t, though, so he couldn’t. Alternative methods would have to be utilized.
Cellbit called up to Roier’s sleeping face, and it came out as a soft meow. The man’s nose wrinkled, but he didn’t wake. Repeating the action still garnered no response. Cellbit would need to be a bit firmer.
He wiggled out from under the hand on his back and stretched to place a paw on Roier’s face. The other grumbled, the fur tickling him. Cellbit channeled as much angry-cat energy as he could and meowed again. Roier’s eyes shot open, spooking his companion. “Gatito? Que pasó?”
God, there it was again. Roier kept calling him that, and although he meant it as something else, it was jarringly close to his human nickname, gatinho. Cellbit adored the way it sounded from the younger man’s mouth, loved how the letter rolled off his tongue and expressed such fondness. To hear a similar phrase said to him – about him – had an equally as large effect on him.
“What, cabrón?” Roier urged. Sleep muddled his voice, and his words slurred together. “Did you need something?”
Cellbit remembered the task at hand. He sprung off Roier’s chest, landed on the ground, and meowed again. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the Mexican stand to follow him. Luckily, Roier was already dressed, so he could skip that part of his checklist. Food was the most important thing.
“Who do you think you are? Walking around like you own the place,” Roier called after him as they both descended the stairs. Despite his complaints, he was pliable to Cellbit’s whims. They were in the kitchen in no time. Roier’s stomach did the rest of the work, rumbling on cue. “I guess you are hungry too, no?”
Roier shot him a soft smile, and Cellbit was glad cats couldn’t blush. If his tail swished a little faster, that was for him to know. Roier didn’t address him anymore. He was too distracted fixing lunch. It took fifteen minutes for him to cook two burger patties, cutting up one of them into cat-sized bites. Roier allowed him to hop up onto the table to eat, which he appreciated. It would’ve been demeaning otherwise.
Cellbit finished as much as he could, but his stomach wasn’t as large as it used to be. Admittedly, it was also his first meal of the day. Roier cleaned his plate, successfully fulfilling another of the Brazilian’s goals for the day. Once that was finished, and the dishes were set aside to be dealt with later, Roier’s settled on his bed in the corner.
Cellbit stayed on the table. He didn’t want to intrude where he wasn’t welcome. Being near Roier on the couch had been a lot of pressure, but this would be too far. A person’s bed was intimate, personal to them.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Roier grunted. Cellbit blinked, catching himself in the act of staring. “He does the same thing – looks at me like I can’t fucking see him doing it.”
Roier was talking about this mysterious ‘him’ again. The words churned in Cellbit’s gut, something nasty brewing alongside them. He hated the glint of distant happiness in Roier’s gaze. Whoever was on his mind was obviously important to him, and Cellbit feared it wasn’t anything platonic.
“Y’know, gatito,” Roier sighed, falling back against his pillow. “He’s the reason I’m staying inside today.”
Cellbit perked up, despite every part of him wanting to leave the room. Curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know where this was going to go, what was going to be said. Most importantly, he wanted to know who this person was.
“I see him so often, but I can’t get him out of my head.” Roier covered his face with his hands. He didn’t notice that the cat had ceased its purring. “It’s probably because he’s so dumb. So smart, but so, so dumb.”
Cellbit tilted his head. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure if Roier liked this man or if he hated him. His tone was filled with anger, but the tips of his ears were bright red. Who was capable of making him feel this way?
Roier shouted at the ceiling, “Cellbit, culero!”
Cellbit blinked, confused. What did he have to do with any of this? Wasn’t Roier just talking about the person he liked? Why would Cellbit’s name come up?
Oh. Oh.
He was the man Roier was talking about.
Cellbit’s chest rattled with the force of his heart. His ears rang, his mind blanked, his vision brimmed with static. He stumbled, limbs numb and fur prickling. The world seemed to shift as his realization dawned on him.
Did this mean Roier liked him? He hadn’t directly said that, but it could be implied, right? Through their weeks of joking, was he really not the only one to feel something more?
“He’s so pretty, gatito.” Roier’s voice barely registered, but it struck home all the same. It was dreamy, far out. He sounded like he was splitting himself open, spilling his guts over these words. “He’s got these eyes, and this smile, and he’s so sweet – Mierda. He is wonderful.”
He wasn’t supposed to be hearing this. It was an invasion of privacy, a crime. If it was ever discovered that he wasn’t truly a cat, he’d be scorned, hated. There was no way this could go well. He had to leave. He had to run.
Roier sat up, locking eyes with a panicked Cellbit. The situation worsened. “I want to kiss him, gatito. More than anything. You don’t understand.”
He did. He understood in ways Roier never imagined he could.
“Mira, mira… He has these theories, yeah? And they’re brilliant,” Roier sighed. His big, brown eyes sparkled with unfiltered excitement. All of that for Cellbit. He couldn’t breathe. “I had another dream about him last night. That’s why I needed a lazy day.”
Cellbit’s pulse dropped and the inexplicable sadness that washed over Roier’s expression in the next instant. There were months of emotions built up behind his irises fighting to escape. The mood change was chilling, alarming. He had thought the slump was getting better, but everything was crashing down at once.
“I know I have a reputation, gatito,” Roier continued, quieter than before. “I flirt with people a lot, and they flirt back, but it never goes anywhere. It isn’t fair of me, but I was kind of hoping this one would.”
Cellbit trilled in the back of his throat, a natural reaction to such an outlandish statement. Roier smiled at him, watery and weak. He didn’t want something so sad. He wanted the other smile – the one that brightened his entire universe and kept the blood flowing in his veins.
“Lo siento, gatito. You did not want to hear about my relationship problems,” Roier croaked. “I just– He won’t do anything. He must know how much I like him, but he won’t make a move.”
The cat hopped off the table, concern driving him as he stepped closer. Cellbit wasn’t going to invade his space, but Roier looked like he desperately needed company. His prediction was correct, judging by how quickly he was swept up into warm arms. Cellbit willed himself to purr again, if only to block out the pain that clearly wracked his friend’s mind.
“I am being silly, gatito,” Roier laughed. His fingers stroked down soft fur, the feeling sending pleasant shockwaves through Cellbit’s body. “I’m too scared to make a move myself. I don’t want to be rejected. I’m sick of being cast aside.”
Cellbit cursed the heavens, the fates, and that goddamn drink for robbing him of his voice box. He needed to comfort Roier, needed to assure him that he would never be cast aside again, needed to make the move that he craved so desperately. Cellbit needed to take Roier’s face in his hands and kiss him until his self-doubt evaporated. He wouldn’t hesitate anymore, wouldn’t allow a single misunderstanding stand between them. By the time he was done, Roier would have no room to debate.
But that time wasn’t now.
Now, he could only remain steadfast as Roier leaned back into his pillow and brought him with. Gentle sniffles echoed in the air, getting softer with each passing tick of the clock. The sun wouldn’t go down for several more hours, and yet the man holding him was drifting into sleep again.
The sunlight was warm. The bed was warm. Roier was warm. Cellbit would keep him that way until he woke up. No nightmares, twisted realities, or frigid anxieties would reach them while he was there. He would make sure of it.
~~~~
Roier’s return to the waking world was a difficult one. He was comfy, more than he had been in months. There was a weighted blanket on his chest, and a delightful heat encompassing him. He breathed in deeply, and his senses were met with a cologne not his own. Roier assumed it to be the fault of a dream leaking over into his daylight.
Something tickled the skin of his neck, shifting atop of him, and that was what finally brought him out of his haze. Roier blinked away sleep, greeted by the ceiling of his home as he always was. He tried to stretch, to lift his limbs from his side, but he found he couldn’t.
Roier frowned and glanced down. His eyes widened.
Resting on his chest, head buried in the crook of his neck, was Cellbit. He was fully-clothed and fast asleep. His chest rose and fell, subtle snores filling the silence. Roier bit his lip to keep from screaming. He still failed to prevent a small, horrified squeak from escaping him.
What the fuck was Cellbit doing there? How did he get this close without waking him? Why was he in Roier’s bed? What was he supposed to do?
Cellbit moved, and he tensed. The man on top of him groaned, stirring. Roier shivered as a low murmur brushed itself against the skin of his throat, “Hm? Guapito?”
Slowly, Cellbit pulled himself up, bracing his weight on his forearms. He stopped once he was hovering a few inches above Roier’s shell-shocked face. Sleep muddied his crystal clear eyes, but they crinkled at the sight of him nevertheless.
“Olá, Guapito,” Cellbit whispered. His voice brimmed with an intoxicating amount of affection. It flooded his lungs, racing through his veins. Cellbit raised a hand and cupped the younger man’s face. His thumb traced the flush that spread itself along Roier’s cheeks.
“G-Gatinho? What are you doing,” Roier stammered, barely audible. Cellbit raised an eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips, teasing and frustrating.
“I didn’t know you were so desperate for company that you’d rant to a cat,” was Cellbit’s response.
Roier’s flush deepened into a scarlet. Horror dropped his jaw, a jumbled mess leaving him hurriedly, “Que? What? How did you–? How–?”
“Calm down,” Cellbit chuckled, and Roier clamped his mouth shut. He was pretty sure he would do anything those lips asked of him, but that might’ve been his subconscious talking again. “I know this might seem strange, but I don’t want to lie to you. Dapper turned me into a cat this morning.”
Roier struggled to process what any of those words meant. English was not coming to him as easily as it should’ve. His mind was still reeling over the gentle caress currently framing his face. Why was Dapper being brought up? What did a cat have to do with him? Why was Cellbit casually this close to him?
The last few hours struck him all at once – a tabby cat, a thrown-together lunch, bright blue eyes, tears spilled over a love he believed to be hopeless. Cellbit’s proclamation didn’t make sense. If he was turned into a cat, and Roier found a cat this morning, then that must mean…
He jerked up suddenly and his forehead bumped into Cellbit’s. The latter of the two yelped, backing up and off of him. The hand left Roier’s face to press against the new bump that would likely form. “Shit,” Roier cursed. “Lo siento! I’m sorry, gatinho.”
“It’s fine,” Cellbit chuckled, wincing. He lowered his hand and his lips split into a brilliant grin. Early evening light streamed through the window, illuminating the beautiful man across from him. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t, uh,” Roier exhaled, breathless. Unable to tear his eyes away, he accidentally let his thoughts slip, “Eres hermoso.”
He realized his mistake as soon as he made it, but Cellbit’s smile didn’t waver. Roier was sure he knew what was said, sure his Spanish was good enough to catch such a simple slip-up. Why didn’t he seem affected? Why wasn’t he surprised? Flustered? Upset?
The next memory that came to Roier had occurred in the minutes before he’d fallen asleep. In this fragile recollection, he had unloaded all of his pent-up emotions onto an animal he believed couldn’t comprehend his words.
Fuck.
“Gracias, Guapito,” Cellbit laughed, reading him like a book. “Você é muito bonito.”
Roier was going to pass out. This was too much for him to handle, and it wasn’t over. Cellbit’s twitching hands and glinting eyes spelled trouble in a million languages. The bed creaked as the Brazilian scooted closer.
“You mentioned something earlier,” Cellbit started. “About waiting for me to make a move.”
Roier begged the earth to crack open beneath him and swallow him whole. He was overheating, knuckles white as he gripped onto the sheets of his bed. Cellbit was still leaning in. He forced himself to respond, “Sí, sí, Gatinho. I did say that, but it was a mistake. I was tired, you know?”
“Don’t lie, Guapito,” Cellbit tutted. His eyes flicked down and back up. Roier laughed nervously, pressing himself into the wall behind him. He had to be dreaming. This couldn’t be real. “I know exactly how you feel about me.”
A cautious hand brushed his jaw, thumbing at his bottom lip, and it was far too certain to be an illusion. Roier short-circuited. Cellbit watched him, took in everything he had to offer. He crawled forward, stopping only when his shaky breaths fanned Roier’s skin. He taunted him with their proximity, lips parted slightly and pupils blown wide.
“Guapito?”
Roier made a choked, pathetic noise.
“Can I kiss you?” Cellbit gazed directly into his eyes, into his soul. Roier could see the desperation in his expression. It matched him perfectly.
Roier nodded. “Please.”
He gasped as lips crashed into his. The kiss was bruising and sweet and everything he’d ever needed. It was the culmination of weeks of pining, penance, and passion. Cellbit’s other hand came up to frame his face, pulling him in until they were flush with one another. He ran his hands through Cellbit’s hair, delighting in the soft hum that emanated from the man he loved.
Roier’s brain buzzed with fireworks and butterflies swirled in his stomach. He had to pull away, out of breath and light-headed. Cellbit was in a similar state of disarray. His chest heaved, his lashes fluttered, but still he remained poised over Roier’s mouth – ready to restart the second he got the chance.
“Gatinho,” Roier whispered. Cellbit met his eyes. “You like me?”
“Yes,” Cellbit promised. “Was that not obvious? I adore you.”
Roier shivered. He closed the distance, kissing Cellbit again. He made sure to press every ounce of affection he possessed into the action. The words wouldn’t come to him, so he prayed this would be enough. He prayed Cellbit piece together his meaning like he did with his over-complicated puzzles.
Cellbit returned this kiss, scorching the other man with the intensity of his requited feelings. Roier rested his hands on his chest, pulse skipping beneath his palm. Bliss filtered through his system, a source of endless adrenaline.
Without warning, Cellbit began to vibrate, a subtle rhythm pattering at the back of his throat. Roier broke their connection to frown at him. “Gatinho? Are you purring?”
“What?” Cellbit’s eyes widened. He gaped as if he hadn’t realized it was happening, and the sound grew louder. His nose crinkled in disgust and abject horror. “Dapper said it would wear off!”
“Aye, mi amor,” Roier sighed. “Dapper is not to be trusted.”
Cellbit sagged, collapsing into Roier’s arms with a loud whine. “This is terrible. Forever is never going to leave me alone when he finds out.”
“Cálmate, cálmate,” the younger man shushed. Words of comfort poured from him, assurance that these effects were likely just lingering longer than the rest, and they would soon leave. He didn’t believe them, but Cellbit needed to hear it. Once the man had calmed down, Roier glanced at the clock. “It’s time for dinner, Gatinho. Get up and I’ll make us something.”
“No, let me,” Cellbit sighed. He pushed himself off the bed and stretched. His eyes regained a hint of life, and he bent to place a chaste kiss on Roier’s cheek. “You just sit here and look pretty, okay? I have thumbs and I am dying to use them.”