*This is not my story but from @ themarmalade on AO3*
-*-
The rain hurts. There's a word for that, he knows. Think, Yoongi, think...hail! Christ, I've been stuck like this too long.
He huddles beneath a parked silver Honda outside the supermarket and wraps his soft grey tail around his paws, shivering a bit. It's been nine months since he stepped into that odd circle chalked with symbols he didn't recognize.
As ever, he's mad enough to scream thinking about it. Who the hell makes a magic fucking spell circle in the back alley of a restaurant!
There was no other explanation for it. First day in a new city, he was walking through a dingy back alley trying and failing to be on time for a job interview. He looked up from the map on his phone to dodge a stack of empty boxes. He found himself looking into the horrified eyes of some guy in a massive pink hoodie with long, clear crystals in hand, and suddenly his body was wracked with electricity. For a split second he thought the guy had tazed him. But then he crumpled to the ground and saw the strange circle he was standing on, and some instinctual suspicion made the connection.
He looked up to ask the guy a very justified "what the fuck" but there was a sudden burst of light, and pain, and both he and pink hoodie guy were thrown on their backs. That had been quite enough of all that, thank you very fucking much, and Yoongi scrambled to his feet and booked it around the corner, and another corner, and a long alley until he really had no idea where he was.
A thin river snaked through a canal below him, and he paused to catch his breath, lungs burning. That's when he realized, he was awfully low to the ground. And that empty can of pepsi was awfully big. Bigger than a can could be. His stomach lurched at the bizarre perspective shift. He tried to stand up straight, only to realize he already was standing up straight, shoulders stretching weirdly. He looked around wildly, just in time to dodge a gigantic foot bearing down on him.
He hid under a shrub that was somehow spacious enough to be a tree for him and panicked. Looking down, he saw silky storm cloud colored fur. And where were his hands?! He picked up a paw, a cat paw, and noticed it was about the same size as a bottle cap laying under the shrub with him.
Oh god, this isn't me, this isn't my body, oh god, oh god,
His body was shaking beyond his control. Frozen in terror and disbelief, he didn't move until what must have been hours past midnight when his stomach made him. That night, he ate garbage scraps behind a cafe and felt sorry for himself.
Life hasn't changed much from that first night. Yoongi eats well enough, there's always some decent trash to find in the city. He scowls and dodges feet. He thinks about his savings account longingly when he trots by an ATM. He doesn't speak, horrified when only a meow comes out. He sleeps on mildewy abandoned office chairs or stacks of cardboard boxes behind buildings and tries not to wonder what became of his mattress and apartment full of unpacked boxes. He watches people more than anything else, and catches himself mournful for the person he used to be.
-*-
The clouds darken. He gives himself a good shake, water droplets flinging from his fur. There's a whole collection of warm, dry places he's found to nap in, and if only this damned hail would let up he could make it across the parking lot, over the little canal and into the tiny backyard that housed his favorite musty couch in a shed with a broken door.
Suddenly, the car he was hiding under roars to life. Scared shitless, he dashes haphazard across the parking lot and doesn't slow down until he gets to the little footpath that crosses the canal. He crosses this little bridge nearly every day, always cutting the corner to the other side by leaping through the railing bars.
On edge and waterlogged, today he's careless. Maybe there's a spot of mud he slipped in when he leaps or maybe the rain in his fur weighed him down just that much. He falls, with the fleeting thought that cats aren't supposed to fall. He scrambles to catch his claws on the stony edge all the way down but the sides of the canal are smooth and pitiless.
The water envelopes him in a flash, cold and swift. He flails, frantic for anything to latch onto. Terror grips his mind at the thought that he may die as just some street cat, never to be Min Yoongi again. But his claws find cement, a little ledge to pull himself up on to.
He stands there shivering, looking like a drowned rat. Almost was a drowned rat, he realizes. Relief floods his body but then he notices, he's trapped here. Shit.
The walls of the canal tower steep above him and he's mad all over again that if only he was his normal human self...
God damn it, I'm a cat! He steels himself. Who better to defy physics than a cat. He eyes a crack in the cement slope about seven feet above. It was about half way up the wall, and he figures he could use that crack to propel himself up the rest of the way.
He shakes the water from his fur and wiggles down before he springs up. He reaches the crack easily enough, but the wall is too rainslicked and Yoongi too shaken from near death and the cold sinking into his bones. He tumbles back down the wall, just barely managing to save himself from careening back into the swiftly flowing water.
He doesn't have it in him to try again after that. He sits on the narrow ledge, watching the people hurry along the sidewalk above him, oblivious. He tries not to be bitter. Everyone is hunched under colorful umbrellas just trying to get home, of course they don't see him. It doesn't stop the utter loneliness hammering him along with the cold rain.
An hour later, the rain finally lets up and the sun dares to peak through the clouds before it starts it's descent below the horizon. The panic has started a slow settling into his bones. What if I can't find a way out? What if I starve here? Do cats get hypothermia? Worst of all, an older and more constant dread: There's no one to look for me.
His stomach twists uncomfortably. He's gonna have to call for help and hope to god a sympathetic cat lover walks by. He hates this, hates the dissonance between the voice that's his and the high pitched meow that comes out. He hasn't spoken besides a hiss in six months.
There's a row of small, older apartments that line the other side of the canal, houseplants and laundry littering the balconies. He fixes his gaze on the crackling cream paint and tries to ignore the feeling of degradation that grows with every pitiful yowl and mewl he makes.
No one's even looking at him. A sob catches in his throat, but he has no other options. So thirty minutes pass, and an hour, and his voice is hoarse but he doesn't stop. The sun is setting and he's terrified.
Something drops beside him with a thwack! He startles and looks up to see a head poking through the railing above him.
"Kitty? Oh thank god, you're still here," the man says, fiddling with the ends of what is apparently a rope ladder. "I went all the way to the hardware store to get this ladder. It woulda been just my luck that you'd disappear before I got back."
A flashlight shines in his face and he scowls away. " Poor kitty," the man coos. "You're soaked. Okay, I'm gonna come down now, don't be scared, okay?" He was speaking in the most overbearingly soothing voice and Yoongi has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.
"Christ, this is terrifying, I hate heights," the voice sing-songs through clenched teeth, still trying not to spook Yoongi as he climbs down the steep slope. "Hoseok, don't you dare fucking slip," the guy chides himself. Yoongi can hear the tight shake in his voice and is a little touched that this guy is doing all this for some dingy grey cat.
There are legs landing beside him suddenly, and he's being scooped up and tucked into a warm coat. The stupidly soft voice repeats a mantra of "there were go, don't be scared, you're fine, you're fine," seemingly more for himself than Yoongi as they climb back up the flimsy ladder.
They land on the sidewalk side of the railing and he could scratch and scramble his way to escape, but the jacket and voice are so warm, and Yoongi is so tired, and cold, and no one has spoken directly to him in over half a year.
Hoseok, it turns out, lives in one of the old apartments overlooking the canal, with white t-shirts hanging over gawky potted plants on the little balcony. It's a small studio, a bit shabby, but a nice balance of cozy and airy. Second hand sofas and arm chairs in varying shades of cream are settled in between mismatched lamps and dark wooden tables and shelves. Plants are everywhere; vines trail down bookshelves, there are violets on the coffee table, a massive spider plant dangles like a jellyfish in the daffodil-yellow kitchen.
They fall into a deep armchair and Hoseok pulls Yoongi from his coat, holding him out at arms length to have a look at him. "Ohhhh, poor pretty kitty," he tuts at the sorry state Yoongi is in.
It's stupid, but, Yoongi feels a rise of pride at being called pretty.
A towel falls over his head and he's being rubbed vigorously all over. He squirms free and bats harmlessly at Hoseok's wrist in annoyance. Hoseok just giggles and apologizes, watching as Yoongi licks his fur down flat.
"You're okay, huh?" he muses. "I wonder if I should bring you to the vet."
Yoongi freezes, horrified at the idea. He stares up at Hoseok's face, willing him to change his mind. Hoseok just smiles at him, and Yoongi sees him fully for the first time. He's beautiful, radiant, perhaps a bit sad. For the hundredth time that day, Yoongi curses the fact that he's nothing but a tiny grey cat.
Hoseok cooks some chicken alfredo and saves a whole hunk of chicken for Yoongi. He sets it on a little flowery plate on the floor but Yoongi drags the meat up on the dining chair next to Hoseok. Food just tasted worse on the ground, he wasn't sure why. It had long become a habit to drag the scraps he salvaged from the trash up to some ledge or the roof of a car to eat.
Hoseok laughs softly and smooths a big hand down Yoongi's back. "Gotta eat at the table, huh? Dignified kitty," he murmured.
He's finished his chicken and is eyeing the leftover sauce on Hoseok's plate as he shovels in the last bite of noodles. It'd be rude, he supposes, to jump on the table and lick the plate of the guy who just rescued him though, so he just watches as Hoseok scrapes up one more forkful.
To his surprise, Hoseok picks him up and sets him on the table by his plate. "Go ahead. You've had a hard day," he reasons.
"I did too, you know," he continues as Yoongi eagerly licks up the creamy sauce. The dishes clatter and clink as Hoseok fills the dishwasher. "I had an interview for a job I didn't want, but should want. I'm gonna turn it down and tell my parents I didn't get it. Again. I was supposed to give a private lesson today, but the guy canceled, again. I was halfway to the studio when he called, and I stepped in a fucking puddle on the way back and my socks were soaked for hours."
He sighs and shuts the dishwasher door. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he runs his hands through his chestnut colored hair, a smile hinting around his eyes as he watched Yoongi lick the plate clean. "But I found the cutest little kitty, didn't I!" he coos, picking Yoongi up and rubbing his face all over his forehead.
"We'll get you some proper cat food tomorrow," Hoseok says, carrying him to the sofa and grabbing the TV remote. Yoongi is slightly horrified at the thought of dry ass cat food, or worse, that weird, wet canned stuff. He shudders.
"And some toys! I wonder what kind of toys you like."
Oh god, and I'm gonna have to fake play with some fucking feather on a string. But Hoseok's long fingers were scratching behind his ear and under his chin and he can't lie; it feels heavenly. His eyes drift shut and he leans against Hoseok's chest with a content sigh. Only, the sigh came out as a purr. The mortification jolts him up straight.
Hoseok giggles, gently pressing Yoongi back to his chest and smoothing his fur. "Sleepy, huh? Oh my god, you're purring, so cute," Hoseok barely keeps himself from shrieking. "Does that mean you like me? Are we friends now? Little cutie," he hums happily.
Yoongi should be horribly embarrassed, cuddling a man he doesn't know and purring for god's sake. But Hoseok's hands feel so nice and he keeps complimenting him and he's so damn warm and apparently, a purr just happens when he's happy.
The fact that he doesn't know that fact because he hasn't been happy once, not once, in nine months has him sinking reluctantly into the crook of Hoseok's arm, lulled to sleep by the mumble of the TV and occasional rumble of laughter in Hoseok's chest.
-*-
The morning sun was well risen by the time Yoongi stirs, feeling more at ease than he can remember feeling in so long. Everything around him is cushy and warm, sunlight and sheets and Hoseok's skin. Oh. And god damn it, he's purring again.
Whatever, he tells himself. I'm just a stupid little god damn cat. He curls into the crook of Hoseok's neck and the rumbling in his throat increases.
When he wakes again, it's to the sound and scent of bacon crackling in the pan. Hoseok is humming to himself and poking around with a spatula. Yoongi leaps up onto the counter, making Hoseok jump a little.
"Oh, morning cutie," he smiles, putting himself a bit between Yoongi and the stove, to protect the bacon from Yoongi or Yoongi from the flame, he wasn't sure.
Hoseok makes his way to the couch with two small plates of bacon and eggs, one in his lap and one on the coffee table. Yoongi goes for the one in Hoseok's lap, little paws pressed into Hoseok's thigh as he wolfs down a chunk of scrambled eggs. He flattens his ears in embarrassment when Hoseok laughs and he realizes in an instant that geez Yoongi, of course the one on the table was meant for him.
"That works too, I guess," is all Hoseok chuckles, reaching over Yoongi for the other plate.
The quiet, comfortable stillness of a sunny morning with nothing to do surrounds them, small sounds of eating interrupted by the occasional video as Hoseok scrolled through his phone.
"Look, we got 56 likes already." Hoseok turns his phone toward Yoongi, and there's a selfie he posted, soft sleepy smile, dark hair fanning out on his pillow, and—oh, there's Yoongi, a fluffy grey poofball asleep in the crook of Hoseok's neck. Hoseok's caption reads "new love of my life" with a tongue sticking out emoji and Yoongi feels all the blood in his body rush up to his face.
His brain is trying to process too many things at once. The unsettling oddness of seeing a photo of a cat and recognizing it as himself, first of all. The increasingly hard to ignore fact that he would be crushing hard on Hoseok if he'd come across him on instagram or the street as a human, second of all. Third of all, these weird pathetic tickles in his chest at Hoseok's caption, at Hoseok taking a picture with him in the first place.
No, not with me, he reminds himself, trying to ignore the clench in his chest. With a cat. You're just a cat.
---
Chapters are pretty long
If you notice any mistakes, feel free to commant, I'll try took correct them :)
Again, this is not my story but from themarmalade on AO3 (u can ofcourse read it there as well)