I'm Keeping the Kitten

Nikolai

The sun slanting through my windows was what woke me up out of my sleep. Slowly, I uncurled from the ball I’d been sleeping in and yawned, looking down at the still fast asleep kittens I’d been wrapped around moments before. Canny-poo and Pooka looked like a modified version of the yin-yang with the way they were intertwined.

Brief snatches of the day before haunted me, Gallagher standing up against Faraday for me, holding me tightly and looking at me as if I were the most precious thing in this world. The way he’d been before I left. The whole situation seemed so fantastic there was no way it could be reality, I decided. My dreams lately had focused around my half-brother or been memories of our brief time together, so it wasn’t surprising, but it felt so real. They always did. I could still feel his touch burning into my skin like scarification, but the places were as milky and smooth as before. I wish I had something to show from our time together.

Careful not to wake the kittens, I slid out of bed and brushed my hair out, keeping it out of my eyes with two sparkly blue bobby-pins. I pulled one of Turner’s overlong sweaters he’d left over here a few weeks ago and snuggled into the soft fabric, his natural, musky scent assailing my nostrils. It came down to mid-thigh so I saw no reason to put on anything over my briefs.

Yawning widely, I slipped out of my bedroom and skipped downstairs, humming softly to myself whatever popped into my head. The smell of French toast and syrup assailed my nostrils and I hurried along a little faster, peering around the corner to find Gallagher in front of the stove watching the bread intently, his bright eyes narrowed in concentration.

Likely sensing my staring, he looked up and smiled broadly.

“Good morning, Kola. I was hoping you’d still be asleep by the time I finished but you can keep me company while I finish up breakfast.” I furrowed my brows but sat down at the island. As he cooked, Gallagher chatted with me as casually as he had before our breakup, laughing at small things I said and occasionally turning away from the food to tickle my sides, grinning like a maniac when I squirmed and giggled, squeaking at him to have mercy.

“You’re so cute,” he announced after one such attack, pressing a light kiss to the top of my head and my sprouting, dark roots. “Like a kitten.” When Gallagher stroked my cheek I leaned into the touch reflexively, a pleased sort of hum building in my throat, something like a purr.

I couldn’t fathom why he was suddenly acting like this. It wasn’t a bad thing, just unexpected. The longer it went on, the harder I scrutinized him until the words came out without my permission.

“Why are you being so nice?” I asked, my voice soft. Despite my hopes, he heard it and the slight smile fell. Gallagher’s eyes darkened considerably and tension seemed to soak the room. “Gally?” I hadn’t used the pet name in so long it felt foreign on my tongue the irony but it seemed appropriate. I hopped down from the chair and approached him slowly, holding out my hands for him to take or reject. He stared at me for a long moment before closing the space between us, wrapping his strong arms around my waist and setting me on the counter, laying his head against my chest.

“What’s wrong?”

“Faraday.” I tensed at that and bit my lip but said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “He came over this morning and we had a huge fight . . . he said some . . . really, really fucked up things, some really personal things that . . . I just never expected . . .”

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain,” I murmured, kissing the top of his head and wrapping my arms around his shoulders and leaning into him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Gallagher shook his head violently so I just petted his head and murmured comforting words to him, placing butterfly kisses along the top of his head and the back of his neck at random intervals until he calmed down. When that came about, he stood straight and looked into my eyes, his slightly watery ones seeming to be searching for something he obviously found, because he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

He tasted exactly the same as I remembered: salty but sweet and like a fresh rain. We only broke apart from the slow, chaste kiss because of the food. A look of horror crossed Gallagher’s face as he rushed to the pan where the now-burnt French toast was creating a horrid smell.

“Shit! Aw hell, I’m sorry Kola, I—”

“It’s okay, really. We’ll just . . . make some more. It is no a problem.”

A loud guffaw broke past Gallagher’s lips and I stared at him, puzzled. “What?”

“‘It is no a problem’? You’re so fucking cute, Kola. Even your sometimes-broken English is cute.” A deep flush coated my cheeks and I stared down at the pan and focused on scraping the burnt bits out and into the sink. “Don’t be so embarrassed,” he murmured, resting his hands lightly on my waist and putting his chin on my head. “I think it’s cute.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled, still flushing, trying to get back on track with what I was doing but all I could think of was Gallagher’s hands on me, warm against my body. “Shall we make breakfast together?”

“Let’s.” We moved around each other with the sort of ease I’d missed, touching occasionally and laughing, being silly and natural. Teasing but loving.

“Spend the day with me,” Gallagher said suddenly while we ate, prodding my lower lip with his fork.

“Okay.”

We decided to just stay on the island, watch movies, and go swimming in the pond like we’d been planning to for quite some time but never actually gotten a chance to do. I ran upstairs to change and met him outside, pleasantly surprised to see he was shirtless and trying not to drool too much. Our fingers interlaced and swung between us as Gallagher led me down to the pond.

There was still so much to discuss between us, but for today it seemed easier to push that out of mind and just act as if everything was alright, and the outside world and its judgmental pressures didn’t exist. The pond was large but small all at once somehow. It was miniscule in comparison to the ocean but large in the realms of ponds and that sort of thing, sort of just plopped on the island. It was nestled in a small clearing, a small rocky overhang at one end the rest surrounded by a grassy bank.

I immediately hopped in the cool, clean water, giggling and shivering slightly. Gallagher laughed at me and followed, wading in slowly unlike me until he was submerged up to his nose. I laid on my back and floated, gazing up at the leafy canopy above and marveling at how the sun sparkled in the leaves.

“Kola?”

“Hmm?”

“I was talking to Turner the other day and he told me you got a letter that freaked you out pretty badly. What was that all about?”

I can imagine your shocked, anxiety-ridden face now, tremors began to run through my body, slightly at first but growing in frequency.

it almost makes me laugh, your eyes bugging out, mouth dropping open. I flailed in the water to become upright, moving almost desperately toward the bank. If Gallagher was speaking, I couldn’t hear it, and the urge to vomit became unbearable as tears rolled down my eyes and the slight trembling became full-on shaking and the tears became audible sobs.

Now your heart is starting to race and you wonder how I got your address, it felt as if my heart was thumping in my throat and I could barely control the small muscular spasms.

now your hands are shaking and the person in the room with you is asking you what’s wrong. Gallagher’s arms wrapped around me from behind and turned me so my face was buried in his shoulder.

Are your scars throbbing? His hands began rubbing down my back, shushing my gently.

Are you having flashbacks and remembering everything? The heel of his hand traveled down my spine in that way that always calmed me down and the roaring in my ears began to quiet and I heard him singing gently with his angel’s voice.

“He thinks I'm crazy,

Judging by the faces that he's making.

And I think he’s pretty.

But pretty's just part of the things he does that amaze me.

He calls me sweetheart

I love it when he wakes me when it's still dark

And he watches the sun.

But he's the only one I have my eyes on.” He sang, rocking my side to side gently in the water.

“Tell me that you love me

And it'll be alright

Are you thinking of me?

Just come with me tonight

You know I need you,

Just like you need me.

Can't stop, Won't stop

I must be dreaming.

Can't stop, Won't stop

I must be dreaming."

He moves in closer

Whispering to me—” I cut him off with a kiss. It was quick and barely there but enough that Gallagher stopped and opened his eyes, looking into my likely-watery ones with a loving intent. It was, in that moment, that I realized just how much I needed Gallagher. How much I loved him. Even after time away from each other, he knew exactly what I needed, how to fix me when I was coming apart at the seams.

“I love you,” I whispered, not knowing where it came from, regretting it when I saw the conflict ghost across Gallagher’s face, which was quickly replaced by a contented smile.

“I love you too, Kola. I always have.” A broad grin broke out and my lips came down on his with a sort of feverishness that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Our mouths melded together, my fingers tangled in his hair and his arms wrapped tighter around my waist, my legs coming up around his. There was barely enough room between us for air to pass through, our wet chests somewhat sticking together, but it didn’t matter. All that did was the feeling of our skin meshing together in the most beautiful way.

It was passionate and warm, everything I’d been lacking since we parted, a barely-there edge of lust to it that couldn’t be helped, we were teenage boys, after all. My lips parted before Gallagher even got a chance to ask for entrance and his tongue reacquainted itself with the inside of my mouth, mine passively playing with his when coaxed, becoming more exuberant as time passed.

It wasn’t until we absolutely could not breathe anymore that we broke apart, but moments after gulping in a breath of air, his lips latched onto me at the juncture where my neck and shoulder met. The feeling of his tongue against the area and the gentle sucking made a slightly strangled whimper-slash-moan emit from my lips, but I was too far gone to be embarrassed by the sound. I pulled his face back to mine and crashed our lips back together, teeth knocking together as we deepened the clumsy kiss.

Gallagher carried me out of the water and laid us down on the grassy bank, pulling me on top of him so we could continue. And that was where we stayed the rest of the night, rolling and kissing in the grass, falling deeper in love by the second.