*This is not my story but from @ themarmalade on AO3*

-*-

The next morning, he wakes in the bruised blue before dawn. The couch beneath him is shifting weirdly, and it takes him a minute to remember, not couch, puppy. He gently hops off the soft tummy and trots to the bed, wondering if Hoseok came home.

There he was, sprawled shirtless through kicked off sheets, night breeze and moonlight from the open window whispering through his soft hair, a bit damp with sweat at the nape of his neck. Soft tings from the windchime bounce off his cheekbones and he looks serious in sleep, lips parted, eyelashes splayed over his cheeks.

He really is beautiful, Yoongi admits, aching for fingers to smooth Hoseok's furrowed brows instead of a little paw, lips to kiss his smooth shoulders until the muscles relax. Yoongi thinks of his own face, the human one he still pictures as his, and can't help but wonder if Hoseok would like it, would kiss it all over in happy moments the same way he does now.

There's nothing I can do. A leaden reminder, heavy as the moon. All he can do is search out all the little ways a stray cat can make Hoseok's smile fade less quickly. The thought isn't hard to accept, and that scares him the most. How utterly has he given up hope if he's content with this little life? It was terrifying, weightless.

Needing a little comfort, he licks Hoseok's nose with his sandpaper tongue until he groans in his sleep, consciousness surfacing just enough to pull Yoongi to his skinny bare chest. Slow, thin fingers curl through his fur sporadically as they drift together into the sweet lack of awareness, dreaming of small things they could never tell each other.

-*-

When he wakes again, he's still curled into the curve of Hoseok's thin, golden chest. Summer morning sounds are drifting in through the window, the raucous whirring of delivery bikes, a bucket of water being dumped from a balcony, the announcement of a trolley soon arriving from the station down the way.

Hoseok's arms are caging him in as he scrolls through his phone. Interest piqued, he shifts around to see what Hoseok was looking at, eager for any little glimpses into Hoseok's life. He's scrolling through emails, deleting most of them, pausing to read some new requests from a tutoring company.

An instagram comment pops up at the top of his screen and he switches to it. A picture on Hoseok's feed of the dog sleeping, tiny Yoongi curled up on top like a cherry on a scoop of ice cream. There's a small string of comments, mostly composed of hearts and laughing emojis.

A happy hum rumbles in Hoseok's chest. "Cuties," he murmurs, pecking a kiss to the back of Yoongi's head. For a moment Yoongi had forgotten about the puppy with it's bandaged leg. He's not upset that the puppy is there, he tells himself, really he's not. He just sorta... wishes it would hurry up and better before Hoseok gets attached and adopts him too.

He knows how it goes; dogs are just more fun, more sociable, demand more time and love. The family cat gets some chin scratches and might get to lay in someone's lap but mostly, they become an afterthought. Worst of all, everyone assumes the cat doesn't want any affection anyway.

Even pre-magical mishap, Yoongi could relate. And maybe it wasn't quite fair to say, because true, he doesn't want loads of attention from everyone. Disliked it, even, if it wasn't for genuine reasons. But from the few that he really likes, he craves affection and has never known how to ask for it.

A wave of jealousy or resignation hits when there's a little whine from the sofa and Hoseok is leaving him in favor of the puppy. Back facing the living room, he stubbornly falls back into a shallow sleep, ears twitching every so often at the sounds from the tv or Hoseok talking to the dog.

It's early afternoon when he wakes again and strolls to his bowl to eat the cold chicken and broccoli Hoseok left for him. Water splashes muffled behind the closed bathroom door, and Yoongi stares laser beams at it, hit with the knowledge that behind that door Hoseok was naked, and wet, maybe rubbing himself soapy.

He's seen Hoseok naked before, at least partly. The first time, Hoseok had gotten down to his boxers, froze, grumbled something about cats staring too much and turned his backside to Yoongi. It was a lovely backside, in Yoongi's opinion, and he's imagining soapy rivulets of water traveling across it now, dark green eyes unblinking at the bathroom door.

The shower shuts off with a squeak and Yoongi blinks away, listening to the sound of the towel against Hoseok's skin, occasional hums and bottles clicking open. He can picture the steamy air and grows wistful for the simple pleasure of a shower, of warm soft skin and scratchy washcloths and floral citrus soaps. Of all those things together with Hoseok.

The door flies open and Hoseok appears in nothing but loose cotton shorts clinging to sharp hip bones, somehow prettier than in Yoongi's imagination two minutes ago. Hoseok flicks at his wet hair and tosses his phone on the couch. Humming to himself, he scoops Yoongi up and cradles him like a baby, scrunching his fingers in the soft fur of his tummy. "I know you love me because you let me do this," Hoseok jokes.

Yoongi stares awkwardly at a spot on the ceiling, trying to push away all the other things he imagined letting Hoseok do to him just a minute before.

A cat, Yoongi, you're a cat, he tries to to scold himself. But he isn't; he's Yoongi, and he wants Hoseok more than he's wanted anything.

"Oh, Kookie, hey!" Hoseok yells, setting Yoongi on the back of the couch and rushing over to the puppy. "You can't walk yet, stupid," he giggles.

What the fuck? He already named the dog? Yoongi scowls down at them. I've been here a month and I'm still 'kitty', 'cat', 'cutie', 'little fluff ball'. The puppy was half dangling off the couch, wounded back leg kicking uselessly against a pillow, front legs too short to reach the floor. Hoseok pulls him down to his lap.

"Kookie, stop!" Hoseok laughs, wrenching his hand away from playful puppy bites. "It's for your own damn good, you gotta rest at least one whole day."

Kookie is a stupid name, Yoongi pouts. Just once he wants to look Hoseok in the eye and hear him say Yoongi.

A detached part of himself sees how comically stupid it is that he, Min Yoongi, aspiring musician, brother, basketball player, complex human being, haver of ambitions, is jealous of a dog. His world has become so small so quickly, comprised of a studio apartment brimming with plants and Hoseok.

It's terrifying to consider what he's been reduced to. More terrifying still, he would do anything to be with Hoseok. He can see it, the end of this path; these feelings for Hoseok are going to eat him alive. He'll end up broken if he stays, he'll end up broken if he leaves.

-*-

The next couple days are quiet. Yoongi gets used to Kookie. He's cute honestly, a good dog, nice company when Hoseok is out, and his fluffy tummy is the comfiest place on earth to take a nap. He stares a lot at Yoongi, quirking his head when Yoongi mashes his nose to the remote control to change the channel or drags his broccoli stuffy from Hoseok up to the sofa and holds it in his tiny arms, or delicately flips through a magazine with his teeth.

Yoongi sorts through his feelings, each one folding into each other like shuffling a deck of cards. The conclusion he comes to is that he hasn't yet reached a conclusion. The acknowledgement has begun to settle that soon it'll feel desperate, the need for Hoseok to know him, know Yoongi.

It might not end well. Hell, he hasn't thought of a single realistic scenario that ends well. Any way he can figure it, Yoongi ends up alone, the kind of alone that means without Hoseok, a worse, more pointed kind of alone than he was used to. So might as well try, but not yet. That was his grand plan; enjoy every little minute with Hoseok until it became unbearable, and figure it out then.

However, a tiny shift seemed to occur, as unseen and significant as a current in the sea. When it had been just the two of them, Hoseok talked a lot, voicing the ramblings in his head, basically using Yoongi as a journal for all the thoughts too personal or too pointless to put on twitter. But now that Kookie was around, Hoseok had stopped. Or, he hadn't stopped talking out loud, but it had become less personal, more entertaining, wittier. Less like talking to himself, more like talking to a friend.

It didn't make sense. Yoongi had been pouting about it, thinking maybe Hoseok was just happier now with Kookie around. Until now, the second night of Kookie's arrival. Everyone had grown still and settled, the darkness becoming more present than the bodies laying in it.

He feels the tremor run through Hoseok's body, like a blip of lightning before the rumble of thunder. Hoseok sobs silently into Yoongi's fur, pressing sloppy kisses between his ears. Yoongi lets him of course, purring loudly and nuzzling his head across a tear streaked cheek. It's all he can do, and it's obviously not enough. Being a cat, being the best cat, even, isn't enough to reverse Hoseok's sadness.

The effort Hoseok is making to stifle his cries is odd, and new, but Yoongi doesn't give it much thought. He's too focused on Hoseok's pain, an innocently silly attempt to siphon some of it to himself, to his emptier heart.

Silencing himself seems to make the cries more violent, body tight and trembling as if a poison was circulating through his veins. Yoongi wishes he'd just let it out, vaguely wondering what the hell was stopping him. Shifting his weight to be more comfortable, Yoongi hooks his arm across Hoseok's neck and doesn't think much of it.

But Hoseok gasps and stills. "Oh my god are you hugging me?" Hoseok makes a noise somewhere between a giggle and a sob. "Oh my god, I have the cutest kitty," he whispers and sniffles, cupping his hand slowly over Yoongi's shoulder as if any quick movements would spook the cat out of his accidental hug.

"A little kitty hug, holy shit," he whispers again. His tears stopped, nothing but giggles and half sniffles, and Yoongi's heart is light with relief or satisfaction or something like joy.

It's a stifling Saturday morning, the sky a cloudless hot haze. Hoseok is teaching his regular yoga class and Yoongi and Kookie are sitting in front of the glass balcony door together, watching people below rush to the train or laugh with their friends. Bicycles weave and swerve through the crowds, tinkling bells and shrieking brakes. Yoongi found a glass marble under Hoseok's bed the day before and they're batting it lazily back and forth, a satisfying sound on the hardwood floor. Kookie keeps getting distracted by his bandage, chewing furiously at it until Yoongi bops him lightly on the nose.

Over the last week, Yoongi and the dog have formed an odd little friendship. When Hoseok is out, they take turns playing fetch with one of Yoongi's yarn balls, flinging it across the room for the other to catch. Yoongi wonders if this is what all pets do when their owners are away. He never really thought about it.

Kookie has an annoying habit of following six inches behind Yoongi everywhere he goes, little toenails going tak-a-tak-a-tak on the wood floors. Curiosity sparkles in his big black eyes at Yoongi's every action until Yoongi jumps onto the windowsill or bookcase to escape, smug at the puppy whining up at him.

Hungry for something other than the salty sawdust taste of cat food in his bowl, Yoongi swats the marble hard and trots toward the kitchen, leaving Kookie's bandage at the mercy of sharp puppy teeth. Kookie stops and watches, intensely curious as Yoongi knocks over a box of lemon cookies on the table and slides his paw under the flap to pull it open, yanking the tray of cookies out with his teeth. He limps over and warbles a growly whine in protest as Yoongi crunches the cookie between his little teeth. The sweet, powdery tang is pure bliss.

One more cookie and he's stuffed. He can feel the pitiful puppy eyes boring into his back and scoops up the mess of cookie crumbs with the side of his paw and shovels them to the floor for Kookie to lick up, tail wagging happily. One ear perked, Kookie quirks his head to the side as Yoongi slides the cookies back inside and manages to close the box.

Yoongi plays the floor is lava, leaping over Kookie to the little bookcase full of used DVDs, to the arm chair, to the coffee table, to the sofa. Kookie follows, making sad little hops in attempt to join him on the couch, bandaged leg not quite able to bend. It's cute, Yoongi thinks, amused at the furry face bobbing up and down over the edge of sofa; he's cute.

Or so he thinks until Kookie manages to pull himself up on to the couch cushion and starts in with his second annoying habit. One leg thrown over Yoongi's tiny body, Kookie licks him all over, falling into some kind of relaxed trance. He knows it's probably a canine sign of affection, but christ, Kookie's tongue is huge, and he always licks the fur the wrong way, leaving it to stick up in giant cowlicks. Hoseok has already filmed it three times, instagram comments all making fun of his uncontrolled coos and squeals in the background.

He lets him carry on until he can't take it anymore, shifting around to bunny kick harmlessly at Kookie's stomach until he can squirm free, sleeping the rest of the afternoon away spooned around Kookie's neck.

The slam of the door wakes him, and he's alone on the couch. Hoseok slings his backpack to the corner and slumps against the door. His cheeks are flushed a deep rose, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. "Fuck, it's hot out," he announces unnecessarily as he wrestles out of his damp tank top before he even kicks off his shoes.

"Ohuwaah!" Yoongi jumps a little at the sight of Hoseok leaping back in surprise. "Kookie, you're back!"

'Back?' Where the hell would-

"Yeah," a new voice says from behind him. Yoongi rockets off the couch, scrambling to his feet to hiss at the stranger, ears flat and back arched.

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*This is not my story but from @ themarmalade on AO3*