Chapter Text
It was true that Scaramouche could make poor decisions.
Or, as his mother would have said, was prone to acting 'irrationally' and 'irresponsibly.'
Or, as his high school counselor would have said, he 'failed to consider the consequences of his action'.
Or- well, whatever. Scaramouche didn't need their input. Now that he was in college, his life was his own. Not his mother's to control, or any crummy counselor who barely even knew him. But still, their words echoed in his head as he looked down in his arms at his latest impulsive decision.
And the impulsive decision- a small grey and white kitten- looked back at him. He admired the kitten's tiny little face, the soft ears on her head, her little paws. It hadn't been Scara's intention to adopt a cat. In fact, that had been the last thing on his mind, as the semester had just started up. He was incredibly busy with school and work, and he wasn't even sure if his roommate would be okay with it. But when his friend had messaged him, desperate for someone to take in a kitten or two...
He knew that if he didn't take the kitten in, she would probably wind up being euthanized in a shelter somewhere, or wind up as a stray. Most of the other kittens had been adopted, but this one was smaller and weaker than the others. According to the owner of the cat's mother, she had nearly died when the she and the other kittens were born. No one had been eager for a high-maintenance kitten.
Life could be cruel- Scara knew that firsthand. If he could make life a little better, even for one tiny creature, he should try, shouldn't he? He could deal with the problems later.
He made it to his small apartment, opening the door to find the place empty. No surprise there. His roommate, a tall ginger named Childe- a name that Scaramouche found ridiculous, by the way- was just as busy as he was. No, he was probably even busier, actually. The guy somehow maintained school, a job, regular visits with his family, and a large friend group. When he was home, he was often cooking or exercising.
Well, that was all great for him. Scaramouche wasn't really interested in going above and beyond. He did well in his classes, and he worked enough to pay for his lifestyle. In fact, Scaramouche had ended the previous semesters with perfect grades, and had just recently increased his hours at work. So sure, maybe Childe had more going for him than Scara did, but he wasn't going to let himself feel inferior to Childe. Also, he had found one of Childe's essays laying around in the living room the previous semester, and after glancing over the writing, he was pretty sure that Childe was far from a genius.
Scaramouche carried the kitten to his bedroom, setting her down on the floor before leaving and closing the door behind him. He needed to go back out and buy some supplies for her, but he was worried that if he left her outside of his room, Childe would accidentally let her escape the apartment when he got home. And, yes, maybe he was also a bit worried about how his roommate would react to a surprise kitten. He went back to the front door, but the handle twisted before he could reach it.
Childe pulled the door open, eyebrows raising in surprise at immediately coming face to face with Scaramouche. "Oh, you going out?"
"Yeah." Scaramouche fiddled with the end of his shirt subconsciously. "Uh, there's... just don't go in my room while I'm gone."
Childe frowned. "I don't usually go in your room at all. Why would I go in your room?"
Scaramouche knew that he needed to tell Childe about the kitten. It would be far better to tell him now than to let him be surprised later. But Scaramouche also knew that it would be best to get the supplies for the kitten as soon as possible, and having a whole conversation with Childe would take too long.
"Well, I was just reminding you that you have no reason to."
Childe's eyes searched his for a second. "Yeah, uh, thanks for the reminder I guess."
The supplies trip turned out to take longer than Scaramouche had expected. Apparently there were a lot of options for products to buy; different types of food, a whole variety of bowls, and an even wider array of cat toys. Still, he knew he should try to keep the trip short. The kitten's previous owner hadn't told him if they had feed her before he bought her, and he didn't want her going hungry too long.
He quickly picked out what he thought would work. When the register rang up around double what Scaramouche had intended to spend, he tried not to cringe. That's fine. He could pull it out of his grocery budget. Well, not like he had any choice.
Scara hurried back home, trying not to feel too anxious. He had warned Childe not to go in his room, so it was probably fine.
It was not fine. Scaramouche opened the door to find Childe standing in the kitchen, the tiny kitten asleep in his arms. Uh oh.
"So... you didn't want to, oh I don't know, maybe tell me that you got a cat?" Childe asked dryly.
Scaramouche frowned at him. "I told you not to go in my room." He knew he was being petty, that he had been wrong not to tell him about the cat. But he couldn't help it.
"Yeah, I wasn't gonna. Until I heard meowing." Childe sighed. "I hope those bags have cat food or something."
In lieu of answering, Scara set the bags down on the table and began unpacking them. He kept his eyes on the bags, avoiding looking at Childe. "She doesn't have anywhere else to go. If I take her back, she'll probably wind up being put down, or becoming a stray."
When Childe didn't answer, Scara risked a glance over at him. He looked conflicted.
"I know it was- irresponsible of me, I guess..."
"It's fine, Scara. I like cats. Do wish you had told me, though. But it's not me that's the problem, this apartment building has rules against it."
Scaramouche hesitated. That was probably true. He had never had pets growing up, so he hadn't even known where to begin. "Oh."
Scaramouche opened a can of kitten food. It smelled awful, but the kitten in Childe's arms quickly woke up at the smell. Scaramouche set the bowl down on the floor, and Childe set the kitten down next to it. They watched as she ate eagerly.
Running his hand through his hair, Scara sighed. "Well, can we just keep her until we find a suitable home? I mean, as long as the building manager doesn't find out, right?"
"Yeah, I'll ask around and see if any of my friends can take in a kitten."
Kittens turned out to be much more work than Scaramouche had expected. It seemed like she was always hungry, no matter how many times they fed her. And she demanded a lot of attention too. If Scaramouche was sitting down to do him homework, she was biting his ankles. If Scaramouche went to the kitchen for a glass of water, she was on his heel, expecting to be fed. If Scaramouche was trying to get ready for work, she was sitting on his clothes, getting cat hair all over them.
However much she bothered Scara, though, she bothered Childe even more. Childe told Scaramouche that he had grown up with pets, so it was no surprise that she loved him. It did annoy Scara a bit though. He was the one who had rescued her, not Childe. At the same time, it was a bit of a relief that there was someone else for her to annoy.
Childe was a good sport about it. He was surprisingly tolerant of her interrupting his workouts and constantly getting underfoot. He even helped out without being asked. Childe also brought up the idea of naming the kitten. His name ideas were pretty terrible, though.
"What about Gato?"
Scaramouche looked up from where he was sitting on the couch doing homework. "Childe, that's just the word for cat in Spanish."
"What's wrong with that? My neighbor when I was a kid had a dog named perro." Childe argued.
Except Childe couldn't roll his r's at all. Scaramouche laughed. "Didn't you take Spanish last semester?"
"They just teach, like, grammar and shit. Can you roll your r's?"
"Yeah. Watch." Scaramouche began, not saying any word in particular, just rolling his r's to prove to Childe that he could.
This time Childe laughed. "You sound like you're purring. Like a smug cat." He reached over, ruffling Scara's hair before shoving his head lightly with his hand.
"Yeah, well you're like a smelly dog," Scaramouche retorted. He couldn't help but laugh at Childe's fake pout.
It was odd to be interacting with Childe as much as he was. This was their second semester being roommates, but they didn't really talk much before. Scara wasn't sure why that was; Childe had been friendly, of course, but he always seemed a bit distant. Like he was holding himself back from engaging with Scaramouche in any meaningful capacity. Scara thought that perhaps it was for his sake, maybe Childe thought Scara didn't like him. If that was the case, Scaramouche couldn't blame him. He wasn't the most outgoing guy. But Scara had initially made some attempts to get to know his roommate, and Childe had been the one to pull away. So what was different now?