Title: Untitled Cat Story
Fandom: The Time of Fever/Unintentional Love Story
Rating: G
Length: 2.5k words
Notes: Haha, I don’t even know what this is. I (obviously) started it for the Animal challenge, but it’s pretty mysterious, so I think it fits here too.
Tags: Secret cat shapeshifter, I chose the wrong POV, Coming out to a parent, Brief reference to canonical child abuse, this fic is kind of a mess?, oh well :-)
Summary: Hotae moved towards the cat. On closer inspection, it was an orange tabby, average sized, nothing special about it except for the way it held its ground, its big eyes fixed on him. Wouldn’t a normal cat have run away by now? Or meowed for food? All cats liked to be fed, didn’t they?





Hotae slung the night’s rubbish bags into the dumpster, let the lid thump down, and wiped his hands on his tracksuit trousers. His mum had just closed up shop for the night. He could hear her clattering around in the kitchen, cleaning up. Out here, it was starting to drizzle.

The top level of the Youth Mall looked dark, but the café was on the far side; its light could still be on and he wouldn’t be able to see from here. He could go up and check. Kim Donghee still hadn’t replied to any of his texts: Go out with me! Just for a month!

Hotae checked his phone to make sure he hadn’t missed a reply.

He really couldn’t tell if Kim Donghee wanted him the way Hotae wanted—needed—Kim Donghee. The photo and the watch meant something, but what, exactly? What if those kisses, when they were younger, hadn’t been as life-changing for Donghee? After all, Donghee had already known then that he was gay.

Why not me? Hotae had asked in the alley this afternoon, and Donghee’s immediate response kept ringing in his head: You’re auntie’s son. It felt like a hopeful sign, that she was Donghee’s objection. They could resolve that, if Hotae talked to her and got her approval. Then Kim Donghee wouldn’t have to worry about upsetting her.

Talking to his mum. She’d be all right with it, wouldn’t she? She’d still look at him the same? Well, maybe it would take her a while to adjust. But Hotae couldn’t change how he felt—he’d tried for years—so his mum could take all the time she needed. Hotae knew she’d accept it in the end, if he told her the truth. He’d do it now.

As he turned back to the shop, a small cat at the far end of the alley caught his attention. He stopped, half relieved at the excuse to delay a little longer. The cat wasn’t moving. Was it waiting for him to leave?

Cats were common enough in the alleys; the dumpsters attracted rats and mice, which in turn brought animals that preyed on them. But this cat wasn’t slinking or prowling like a hunter, or skittering away like a nervous stray. It wasn’t begging for scraps. It was watching him.

The rain was getting heavier.

Ignoring the dampness seeping through his clothes, Hotae moved towards the cat. On closer inspection, it was an orange tabby, average sized, nothing special about it except for the way it held its ground, its big eyes fixed on him. Wouldn’t a normal cat have run away by now? Or meowed for food? All cats liked to be fed, didn’t they?

“Stay there,” said Hotae, and ducked into his mum’s kitchen to grab his jacket and some meat scraps while his mum was busy sorting through the freezer.

He half expected to find the alley empty when he re-emerged, but the orange cat was waiting where he’d left it. Hotae bridged about half the distance, then crouched down and held out a strip of chicken. “Hungry? Come on, at least have a taste.”

The cat took a slow step forward, then stopped again.

“It’s chicken,” Hotae told it. “Ah, look at you. Your fur’s all wet. You should at least eat something.”

He held out the meat invitingly. For some reason, he really wanted this cat to trust him enough to eat from his fingers. But the cat seemed more interested in Hotae himself than the offered chicken. Finally, it almost seemed to shrug and came padding over the wet ground. It wasn’t acting like a stray at all.

“Do you have a home?” asked Hotae. “Did you run away to play in the rain, silly cat?”

Saying that reminded him of, all those years ago, spreading his arms and shouting in the rain with Kim Donghee. The exhilaration of letting themselves get soaked. Donghee’s orange jumper, his happy uncomplicated grin. The mesmerising way water had dripped from his hair onto his face and neck.

The railway tunnel was still there. Maybe if Hotae convinced Donghee to go back with him they could kiss again. Maybe Donghee would let him explain properly. He hadn’t been clear earlier. Hadn’t said the truth: I really like you.

But Donghee wouldn’t go anywhere with him right now. He wouldn’t even reply to his texts.

Something brushed Hotae’s knee, startling him out his memories. He lost his balance and sat down suddenly, half in a shallow puddle. The orange cat still didn’t seem interested in the chicken.

“Hi,” said Hotae, not caring that his pants were getting soaked. “I don’t know what do to. I don’t know how to make him accept me.”

The cat looked up at the sound of his voice and blinked. It was listening—and Hotae really needed someone to talk to. “There’s a guy. He held my hand in a bookshop, once, when I fell asleep. He kissed me back, and I would have given him anything. It was years and years ago, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”

The cat’s ears flicked. It’s fur was plastered down by the rain, and Hotae should probably take it inside and dry it. Feed it properly. But it felt so good to be able to talk.

“I’ve had girlfriends. They all say the same thing: ‘You don’t listen, you don’t care about me, it’s like you’re not even here. Why don’t you want to do it? Is there something wrong with me?’ What am I supposed to say to that? The only thing that’s wrong is they’re not him.”

The cat sat down and its ears flicked forward.

Encouraged, Hotae went on, “When he smiles, it makes me so happy. Even when he glares at me, it’s good. I just want to be with him all the time. Otherwise, I’m going to spend my whole life like this, wishing I was seventeen again. Wishing I could go back to the night we kissed. I really want to go back.”

His voice cracked, and the cat put a comforting paw on his knee and licked his hand. It still hadn’t tried the chicken, and its fur was soaked.

Hotae sighed and shook off his sense of hopelessness. It was far too soon to give up. “Come on, let’s get you out of the rain.”

In the kitchen, his mum was finishing up. She glanced over when the door opened, and set down the pan she was holding with a clatter. “Hotae, you’re soaking. You’re dripping on the floor. What were you doing out there? And whose cat is that?”

She threw him a towel.

“I don’t know. It’s just a cat.” He put the cat on the counter and began drying its fur.

His mother smacked his shoulder. “Crazy boy, that towel was for you.”

“Eh, I’m fine.” The tremor running through him wasn’t because of the rain; he was nervous. He focused on his task, giving himself one more moment of the way things had always been.

The cat had been so wet that the towel was already damp through. Hotae found a dry corner and rubbed the cat’s forehead, making it purr. Then it flopped over, sprawling on the counter as if it owned the place, and began to wash its paws.

Hotae’s chest felt tight and weird. He didn’t want to think about what he was about to say in case that made it harder. He watched the cat industriously lick its own shoulder. “Mum?”

“Mm, what is it?” His mother gave him a second towel and pointed at his hair. “That one’s for you!”

Hotae hooked the towel around his neck. “You like Kim Donghee, right? He’s our family.”

After this afternoon, even mentioning Donghee to his mother felt forbidden. Donghee would be so mad if he found out. But Hotae could talk to his own mother about whatever he wanted, and he wasn’t going to chicken out. He swiped a trickle of rainwater from his cheek.

The cat stopped washing and swiped at his arm, but its claws couldn’t pierce Hotae’s jacket.

His mother had gone to the fridge and was sorting through jars and bottles inside, so her answer was distracted and muffled. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve always known he’s gay, haven’t you?” Hotae hadn’t known. No one had told him why Donghee’s father beat him until years later, long after Donghee had left for Seoul. “That doesn’t make a difference?”

“What difference should it make? Our Donghee’s a good, sweet boy—you know that.” His mother emerged from the fridge with a jar of broth, poured some into a bowl, and set it down next to the cat, then snatched it up again. “I should warm that first.”

While the microwave turned, she eyed Hotae severely. “You’re not giving Donghee a hard time about being gay, are you? Because if so, I’ll—”

“Mum! That’s not it at all.” Hotae ran his hand over the cat’s mostly dry fur. Its muscles were bunched and tense, its previous chill all gone. Hotae took a deep breath. “How much do you like him? If he wanted, would you give him your son?”

“Hotae. What are you saying?” The microwave pinged, but his mother didn’t react. She was staring, giving him all her attention.

The cat swiped at him again, and he gave it the chicken scraps from earlier, in case it was hungry.

“Hotae?”

He straightened, clenched his hands at his sides, and said it: “I asked Kim Donghee to date me. It made him really angry. I think he’s scared of disappointing you. Mum—”

His mother’s hands were on his shoulders. She was right in front of him. “You like Kim Donghee?”

Hotae’s eyes stung. He couldn’t quite look at her. He nodded.

“You really like him?” His mother searched his face. “You like him like that?”

“I always have.” He felt like a kid again. He’d been towering over his mum since he was fourteen, but now it was like gazing up at her, asking for permission to join the swim team—something he desperately wanted. He risked a glance down. “Is that okay? Am I allowed?”

“Oh, of course you are.” She pulled him into a tight bearhug. In a rush of relief and safety, Hotae closed his eyes and hugged her hard in return.

“Ugh, you’re still all wet,” she grumbled, but she kept holding him and started rubbing his back. “You know, I did wonder sometimes, when you were younger, but you were always seeing some girl or other. Well, then, now that you’ve told me, I know. And I’m glad to find out you have such good taste in boys.”

Hotae laughed loudly and lifted her off her feet until she squeaked. He laughed again. The nerves from telling her had turned into a giddy fizzing euphoria, a bit like being drunk. “Thanks, Mum.”

“My dear Hotae, you’ve grown up so well.” She leaned back to cup his face and smiled up at him. There was something in her expression that suggested her feelings were a little more complicated than she was admitting, but Hotae knew she was telling the truth all the same. She just needed time to get used to the news.

She patted his arm to make him let go, and then took his hand and squeezed it. “Hotae, if Donghee said no when you asked—”

“I told you, he doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Hotae interrupted. “You know what he’s like. Never wants to be any trouble.”

“I know, but you can’t make him like you, all right?” His mother sighed. “People are complicated. Maybe after all this time he only thinks of you as his little brother.”

Hotae wanted to argue, to insist that their relationship had never been like that. But she was right, he couldn’t speak for Donghee, only for himself. “I have to try, though.”

“Okay. I’m wishing you all the luck,” she told him. “What I want most in the world is for you both to be happy, whatever that looks like.”

“My mum is the best.” Hotae grinned at her. He still felt like a kid, but a happy one. One who knew with deep down certainty that his mum loved him.

“But for now, dry yourself, for goodness’ sake. And find that cat a box to sleep—” She broke off. “Where did the cat go?”

Hotae stopped, towel in hand, and looked around. He’d forgotten about the cat. The chicken scraps were still on the counter, but there was no orange fur anywhere in sight. “Kitty!”

His mother looked behind the rice bin and out in the main room. “The door’s unlocked. I’m sure I locked up before.”

“Could someone have come in and stolen the cat?” Hotae went to see.

They searched the shop, but there was no sign of it, and after a while, Hotae’s mum insisted he go upstairs, take a hot shower and change into dry clothes. “I’ll have one more look, and if we can’t find it, we’ll just have to assume it made its own way home, okay?”

Hotae was drying his hair after his shower when he next thought to check his phone—in case his mum had found the cat. There was a new message, but it was from Kim Donghee, and all it said was: Go Hotae

That was enough to start Hotae’s heart racing. Because in the end, it never mattered what Donghee said so long as he was there, listening and reaching out.

Riding another wave of happiness and fizz, Hotae sat on the edge of his bed and considered how to reply. He didn’t want to tell Donghee about his mother in a text message; he had to see his face for that. So instead, he typed: If you have time tomorrow, will you go to the old railway tunnel with me? And pressed send.

For a long second, there was no reply. Hotae bit his lip and stared at the screen. Was Donghee going to go back to ignoring his messages? Had that Go Hotae been a reprimand?

But then the app showed Donghee was typing. Finally, his message popped up. What time shall we go?

Hotae stared down, excitement building and exploding inside him. He couldn’t stand still. He definitely couldn’t wait till tomorrow. Where are you now?

Outside.

Which could mean anywhere, but Hotae looked out his window just in case. His bedroom faced the alley with the dumpsters and the back entrance of his mum’s shop. Down in the darkness there, dimly lit by a phone screen, was a glimpse of pale face and orange jumper.

Was Kim Donghee crazy? Why was he standing around in the rain like that, in the middle of the night?

Was he—

He couldn’t be—

People didn’t just turn into cats.

Except why else would Donghee have given in when he’d been so determined to turn Hotae down before? It was impossible, but It felt true. So before Hotae dashed down to meet him, he quickly texted his Mum.

If you’re still looking for the cat, you can stop. I think I found him.

And then he grabbed his mum’s biggest umbrella and, in a whirl of excitement and eagerness, tore down the stairs and out into the rain, to throw his arms around Kim Donghee.



END