Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Magnus sighs in relief and slumps back into his chair. Business meetings are the worst. Necessary as they are to keep his cat shelter up and running, Magnus despises them. Wealthy businessmen who think they're better than everybody else because they have more money than they could ever spend, making a spectacle out of donating a tiny fraction of it to a charity or fundraiser. Of course, they're doing this solely out of the goodness of their hearts. Not because they expect good publicity and praise.

Yeah, right.

In the end, though, Magnus couldn’t care less. Let those morons act like they're the saviours incarnate. As long as they actually pay what they promise they can pat each other on the back until they have holes in their shirts.

With another sigh Magnus pushes himself away from his desk. Despite how tedious this part of his job is, he always manages to complete it successfully enough. Maybe it's his charm. If Magnus knows one thing, it's how to use words to his advantage. Sweet talking people out of their money should be a lot harder than it is. Sometimes even a vague mention of good publicity once the quarterly donors are announced on their website is enough for some of them to eagerly take out their wallets. This week in particular has been going beyond well. So well, in fact, that Magnus won't have to worry about any outstanding and future payments for the next four months. If he budgets wisely, even longer. Even if the next round of donations in three months will be lower again, it’ll still work out perfectly.

He's slowly getting the hang of this, Magnus muses as he makes his way back into the heart of the café. His café.

It still feels quite unreal and Magnus has yet to fully comprehend the fact that he is now the sole owner of his very own cat café, but that’s what it is.

They're closed today, and with no more things on his to-do list Magnus plops down onto the soft rug in one of the cat-only areas to watch the fluffy creatures run about.

He's undeniably lucky that everything has worked out the way it did for him. The café is huge, especially considering its location in an otherwise very crowded Brooklyn. Even better, he's not just the owner of the café, but also of the (just as spacious) apartment on top. The whole damn building is his. It's like a dream come true.

Magnus lays back to stare at the nature-themed paintings on the ceiling on this side of the café with a smile.

Despite the place being bigger than most cafés, they’ve always been careful to not overfill it. Unless there's a special occasion, like one of his friends’ birthdays, there are generally never more than ten to twelve guests at a time allowed entrance. He knows he could fit at least double to triple the amount of people inside. He also knows other shop owners are shaking their heads at him for not doing so, but Magnus doesn’t give a fuck. The cats’ comfort comes first.

The way his café is designed gives them enough space to run around, play, and especially hide if they feel like it. The cat-only area itself takes up almost half of the space, filled with climbing structures like cat trees, shelves and ramps, providing numerous hiding spots. The food and rest area is separate and hidden from guests’ view, should the cats need a complete retreat.

They're open five days a week, Tuesday to Saturday, with another closed day on Wednesday every two weeks to give the little rascals enough time to relax. Besides the midday naptime where they're closed every day. And of course, he can always decide to close early or give them an extra day of rest should he feel it's necessary. Everything to keep them comfortable.

In truth it's the cats ruling the place, not the other way round. Magnus wouldn’t have it any other way.

A purring next to his ear makes him look to the right. Magnus smiles at the fluffy little creature. “Hey Chairman.”

“Mrrp?”

Magnus laughs when the cat softly headbutts him and hops onto his stomach, curling up into a fluffy ball. He gently cards his fingers through the soft fur, earning a content purr for his efforts.

“You like it here too, don’t you?”

“Meooow.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Magnus grins, playfully flicking the cat’s ear. The Chairman dramatically shakes Magnus' fingers off, just to then stare accusingly up at his owner until Magnus goes back to stroking. Seemingly satisfied he rests his head on his front paws and dozes off, silently purring under Magnus' attention. Cats indeed run the place.

Magnus looks around, careful to not disturb the fluffball on his chest. Aside from Chairman Meow there’s currently only one other cat present: Church. A big, grey, usually very grumpy cat. That’s what he likes everyone to believe, anyways. In truth he's actually a sweetheart who loves to be petted, and all bets are off when snacks are involved as well.

They usually entertain eight to ten cats per day, two of which are Chairman Meow and Church.

The Chairman is Magnus' own cat and one of his absolute favourite living beings on this planet. The feline has been Magnus' loyal companion for the better part of the last decade. His first rescue – the one that cemented his resolve to do everything he could to make his dream come true.

It had been a chilly day close to Christmas when he was walking home from his part-time job at a local bakery after school. That had been years ago, but Magnus remembers it like it was yesterday. He closes his eyes with a smile that’s equally happy and sad.

/•᷅‎‎•᷄\੭/•᷅‎‎•᷄\੭

Magnus is on his way home after a day full of stupid math questions at school and some rude idiots unhappy with their orders at the bakery. Luckily, the bakery’s just a short walk away from home, no need to take the bus. Magnus quite enjoys walking.

He's just passing a set of alleyways when a quiet, miserable little sound reaches his ears. Magnus stops, listening. Maybe he misheard. The noise of the main street he left behind is still quite loud, after all. He shrugs, ready to keep walking when he hears it again.

Magnus strains his ears. It almost sounds… like a whimper. Maybe someone’s hurt?

Despite his caution about going into dimly lit alleyways he decides to investigate. His dad will so not be impressed when he hears about Magnus' poor life choices, but what can he do. At least he has his thick math book to throw if necessary. And a decently stale baguette that wasn’t sold (still usable for many great recipes so he’d rather not smack someone with it, but he will if he has to).

He quickly switches on his phone light and cautiously looks around. The alley is empty as far as he can see, leading to a dead end. Aside from some trash the only thing Magnus in sight is a rusty old dumpster a few feet away, pushed against the wall on the left. And there it is again, louder this time. Definitely coming from that direction.

Magnus slowly steps further into the alley, math book at the ready, holding his breath until he can peek around the dumpster, and… nothing. Nobody’s there. Just some old cardboard and other trash people just left on the ground as if the dumpster wasn’t right there. Odd.

Magnus almost throws his phone away when the same sound rings through the alley again, coming from right in front of him. With a deep breath and a furiously beating heart he narrows his eyes. Is someone inside the dumpster?

Maybe he shouldn’t open that.

A rustling and movement draw his eyes downward. That’s when he sees it.

The sound didn’t come from next to or inside the dumpster, it came from behind. No serial killer can hide behind there, at least.

Magnus crouches down, angling his phone to get a better look. What he sees instantly breaks his heart.

Squished between the cold metal and the concrete wall is the tiniest cat Magnus has ever seen. The poor thing has buried itself under some old cardboard to keep warm from the cold temperatures and the icy wind. Its fur is dirty and matted, clinging to its small frame as it trembles. One ear is bent slightly, the other twitching at the sound of Magnus' loud breath.

The kitten’s eyes lift slowly to meet Magnus', dull with exhaustion but still attentive enough to look afraid. A thin, broken mew escapes its mouth, the same miserable sound that led Magnus here.

“Oh no,” Magnus whispers, the grip on his phone tightening. The tiny thing can't be older than a few weeks, all bones and fluff. It presses itself further into the cardboard as if trying to disappear. Whoever left it there, Magnus doesn’t even know enough insults for them. Cold, heartless bastards.

Magnus kneels down, uncaring of the wetness seeping into his jeans. Putting his backpack to the side, book on top, Magnus debates what to do next. Whatever that might be, none of his options include standing up and walking away. There's no doubt the kitten wouldn’t survive much longer out here, without food and exposed to the increasingly bad weather. It’ll surely die.

It still might, a small voice in the back of his head informs him. Magnus vehemently pushes that thought aside. He’ll try. He has to try.

There's got to be a vet clinic somewhere in the city, but Magnus has no idea where. And who knows if they're still open at this hour. On the other hand, he's only a few minutes away from home. His dad’s home. He’ll know what to do.

Mind made up Magnus very slowly reaches out towards the kitten. Its stare intensifies and it lets out a string of small meows that might have been threatening if they weren’t so weak. “I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise,” Magnus whispers, careful to move as slowly as he can. Despite the increasingly anxious meows the little creature doesn’t move away when Magnus' fingers finally reach the cardboard its sitting on and starts pulling. Probably doesn’t have any strength left.

Magnus holds his breath, tears stinging in his eyes when he finally has the kitten right in front of himself. With a tiny meow the cat puts its head down onto its paws, just staring at Magnus with big eyes. He's not an expert, but to Magnus it looks like the kitten would be crying if it could.

Keeping up a constant whisper of reassuring words Magnus yanks off his scarf and scoops up the kitten, wrapping the soft fabric around it. “I’m here. You're safe now, I promise.”

With his free hand he roughly shoves the stupid math book back into his backpack, not caring about wrinkles or tearing. Backpack slung over his shoulder Magnus gently presses the bundled-up kitten against his chest and all but sprints home the rest of the way.

The front door slams shut as Magnus kicks off his shoes and lets his backpack fall to the floor.

“Magnus? No slamming doors, you know the r–“

“Dad!” Magnus sprints deeper into the apartment. The living room is empty. “Where are you?!”

“Magnus? What's wrong?” At his son’s desperate voice he comes hurrying out of the kitchen, apron around his waist and a whisk in his hand. They almost bump into each other when Magnus follows his dad’s voice, but he jumps back a step at the last second to not squish his precious cargo.

“What happened?” Asmodeus predictably starts looking his son up and down with a worried frown, no doubt looking for injuries. His eyes linger on the bundle in Magnus' arms. “What's going on, buddy? Are you okay?”

Now that Magnus is home, safe, the adrenaline from being startled by the noise and running home is slowly receding, leaving behind a lot more fear for the little creature. With a sniff he thrusts his arms out in Asmodeus’ direction, careful to not drop his new friend. “Help him! Please!”

“Wha…?” Asmodeus blinks in confusion but carefully takes the bundle with another glance at his son. He slowly unwraps the scarf and is met with a pitiful sight. “Oh dear.”

“I found him behind a dumpster. He was freezing! Someone just left him out there! I couldn’t just leave him there!” Magnus rubs his runny nose angrily. He has decided the cat is a he, he's sure of it. If not, he’ll apologize later. If there is a later. “Can you help him?”

Asmodeus’ brows knit together as he looks down, clearly caught off guard. This wasn’t exactly on his agenda for the night. His gaze flicks between Magnus' frantic face and the tiny kitten shivering in his hands.

“Okay,” he says calmly with another glance at his son who's anxiously biting his nails. He carefully finishes unwrapping the scarf and lifts the kitten out to set it down on the counter. Under the bright kitchen light it looks even worse. Too small, fur dull and clumped together, barely moving besides a twitch of one paw and the constant shivers. “First, we need to warm this little fella up. Can you get me a fresh towel from the bathroom, please?”

Magnus nods frantically and sprints down the hallway, skidding slightly on the tiles as he yanks open the cabinet. At the last second he thinks better of it and whirls around to grab a fresh towel hanging over the heated towel rail with shaky hands. It's still warm and fluffy. Hopefully it’ll make the kitty feel a little more comfortable.

When he races back into the kitchen his dad is on the phone, talking to what Magnus thinks might be a clinic or something. He talks quietly, explaining the situation and what he knows, letting Magnus fill in some blanks when necessary.

“Alright,” Asmodeus says into the phone after a few seconds of silence in which Magnus anxiously wrings the towel. “Yes. We’ll come over right away.”

He ends the call and gently wraps the kitten into the towel Magnus is holding out, tucking it in carefully until only its tiny face peeks out. The kitten lets out the faintest meow but otherwise stays silent.

“That’s it,” Asmodeus murmurs. “You're doing good, little one.” Magnus isn’t sure if it's meant for the kitten or himself, but it still calms his nerves a little, seeing his dad stay so calm while he himself is kind of freaking out.

They're out the door moments later.

As soon as Magnus is seated on the passenger seat Asmodeus carefully places the wrapped-up kitten into his arms before getting in himself. Magnus curls around it instinctively, holding it close to his chest as the engine starts, eyes fixated on the small rise and fall beneath the towel.

“Hold on, buddy,” Asmodeus says gently, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. “It's not far.”

Magnus nods, swallowing hard. “Don’t worry, little kitty,” he whispers, “you're gonna be all better in no time. And then I’m gonna make sure you’ll have a safe home.”

Beside him Asmodeus slightly raises an eyebrow but luckily doesn’t say anything. It's not like Magnus doesn’t know he can't just adopt a cat like that. Apart from the uncertainty whether the kitty will make it (which Magnus does not consider a possibility because it can't happen), it might be really sick.

Plus, they don’t even know if it's a stray. The little baby could belong to someone and maybe it ran away or something. Or it belongs to someone, but the family just didn’t care. If it's the first, Magnus thinks the owners are a bit shit. If you have a baby cat you have to watch it, obviously! If the second option is the case, they're not just a bit shit but shit shit. Those thoughts make his jaw clench in anger, but he swallows it down. Getting mad won't help them now.

≽^• ˕ • ^≼

The clinic smells like antiseptic as most medical facilities tend to do. There are very few people in the waiting room at this hour which is a good thing. Asmodeus is hopeful that it means they don’t have to wait too long to receive an update on how the little cat is doing, and that they get home at a reasonable enough hour. His son has school the next day, after all. And is scheduled to hold a presentation in one of his classes he shouldn’t miss. Though, that remains to be seen, Asmodeus muses. It’ll depends on how tonight goes.

Asmodeus looks around the waiting room again. A young couple just left with relieved smiles on their faces, the woman holding an excitedly wriggling bunny. Seems like that little fella’s doing okay. There's an older lady with a chihuahua on her lap who looks a little worse for wear, might’ve been in a fight, but from what Asmodeus can see it's not too bad either. The dog’s alternating between sniffing its owners’ hands and ogling the waiting area.

The only other people left are two young men sitting huddled in a corner. One of them has his head on the other guy’s shoulder and their hands are intertwined. It might be cute if not for the devastated looks on their faces. Hopefully they’ll receive some good news, too.

Asmodeus has learned, over the years, how to recognize fear in all its shapes and forms. Right now the most obvious one for him to worry about is sitting next to him, quiet and folded inward, almost too small for a thin fifteen-year-old who pretends he isn’t still a child.

Magnus didn’t want to hand over the kitten when they arrived. He was holding onto the bundle with a glare Asmodeus might be proud of any other day, while he himself was answering all the questions about then whens and hows.

The distressed look on his son’s face when they took the kitten away and the doors leading further into the clinic swung shut will surely haunt him for the next few weeks. It's a look Asmodeus has seen before, if only a little less severe today.

When that hellcat and her good-for-nothing husband took sweet Alec away Asmodeus swore to himself he’d make sure Magnus never had to feel like that again (as unrealistic as that might be for him to accomplish). Yet here they are again. It's clear to him that the small amount of time since the discovery earlier was enough for Magnus to form an attachment to the little cat. All he can do now is wait and pray it’ll survive, otherwise he’ll have a heartbroken son on his hands again.

Magnus hasn’t moved from his crouched position ever since they sat down about half an hour ago. Asmodeus watches the slight rise and fall of his shoulders. His hands are folded in his lap, fingers worrying at the hem of his sleeve.

With an inaudible sigh Asmodeus scoots closer to drape an arm around Magnus' shoulder. Proud teenager or not, sometimes you just need a hug from your parent.

Magnus doesn’t say anything, but after a second he leans in to rest his forehead against his father’s chest. One hand comes up to grab the fabric there, knuckles pale.

Oh, my poor boy, Asmodeus thinks and starts carding the fingers of his free hand through Magnus' short hair. It's soft, despite all the products and gels and whatnot he uses that Asmodeus doesn’t really understand the function of.

While they wait Asmodeus’ thoughts drift back to what his son said in the car. Specifically, to when Magnus promised the kitten to find it a safe home. Unfortunately, that promise – as sweet as it was – is not nearly as simple to fulfil as Magnus made it sound. If the kitten has some kind of microchip to point them to an owner there’s not much they can do. Or if maybe someone here at the clinic knows something. He saw a corkboard at the entrance when they came in, and at least two or three of the notes hanging there were flyers for missing pets. When they leave, he’ll definitely have to check that.

If the kitten pulls through and there’s nowhere obvious for it to go, they’d have a few more options. Shelters, for one. Though, who is he kidding? Asmodeus knows his son. As soon as the doctors announce that the kitten will make it and they didn’t find any indication where it came from, Magnus' eyes will light up and he’ll turn to Asmodeus with a hopeful expression and his best attempt at puppy eyes (which are frighteningly good, Asmodeus has yet to find a safe way around them) and ask: Can we keep him?

And Asmodeus will not be able to say no, he already knows that much.

He's already resigned himself to the fate of adopting a kitten years ago, if he's honest with himself. With no small amount of fond exasperation, he thinks about all the times Magnus has lingered before every pet store window they passed, how he crouches on sidewalks to greet every stray as if they were old friends.

Asmodeus has expected the question to come years ago. In a genuine way, that is. Magnus has asked before, of course, when him and Alec were fantasizing about their cat kingdom when they were little, but never in a completely serious way. And not after Alec had to leave.

For a while Asmodeus thought that was because Alec leaving took away Magnus' love for cats, because he’d always associate the animals with his best friend and it made him sad. Contrary to that belief Asmodeus soon came to realize that wasn’t the reason at all. Magnus simply hadn’t asked before because he didn’t believe he could properly take care of one, that with school and hobbies and finding new friends the responsibility for another living being might be too much.

If the kitten lives, it will have a home. And if that home happens to be theirs, oh well. There are worse fates than a small, cute creature curled up somewhere in their apartment, stubbornly alive because a scared boy refused to walk past a dumpster and pretend he hadn’t seen or heard anything like no doubt so many others had.

No matter from what angle he looks at it, Asmodeus is raising a remarkable young man, that’s for sure.

His head snaps up when he hears their name being called. A quick glance at the clock tells him it's been a little under two hours since they left home.

Magnus jumps up like he's been stung by a bee, rushing over to the doctor standing in the doorway.

“How is he? Is he okay?”

“Ah, you must be the young man who found the cute kitten, aren’t you?” The vet looks at Magnus, a gentle smile on her face that’s framed by long, ginger hair. Asmodeus comes up behind his son, putting a hand on his shoulder.

The doctor looks up at him and nods in greeting before turning back to Magnus. She doesn’t look like she has bad news. In fact, she seems quite relaxed. Asmodeus still crosses his fingers for good measure.

“Yes, I am. How is he? Is he a he?”

“Yes, your kitten’s a he.” She smiles again. “And he’s gonna be fine. You did the right thing, bringing him here. He’s a little worse for wear but he's warmed up now and has some food. I know it looked bad, but he's very young and small and that might’ve made it seem worse than it is. The cold was likely the biggest issue.”

She looks over Magnus' shoulder to meet Asmodeus’ gaze. From the look she gives him Asmodeus can only assume that it wasn’t not-so-bad after all, but because there's no more immediate danger, she chose not to worry Magnus unnecessarily. A considerate woman, truly. “He’s got a few injuries, probably from some fights with other strays, and he's a little malnourished but nothing that can't be fixed with some time.” She looks back at Magnus. “You don’t have to worry too much, he’ll be fine.”

Magnus' shoulders slump in relief, in sync with Asmodeus’ own. That’s as good as it can get, he supposes. “Do you know who he belongs to?”

She shakes her head. “We found nothing that could tell us. In my professional opinion I’d even say the little one might’ve been out on the streets for some time.”

For some time. The kitten’s very young. Asmodeus can fill in the rest for himself. Basically, what she’s saying is it's likely the kitten never had a real home.

As predicted, Magnus' face first falls at the news, smart enough to come to the same conclusion and no doubt feeling sad and angry on the cat’s behalf, then it clearlys sink in fully and he whirls around to Asmodeus.

There it is. The puppy dog eyes Asmodeus can't resist. Magnus doesn’t use them often. When he does, they're like an unstoppable weapon. “Does that mean we can keep him?”

Asmodeus sighs, more for show than anything. The doctor takes a step back, quickly hiding a small laugh behind her hand. Asmodeus can't blame her.

“Please?”

Damn him, his son can be too adorable for his own good.

“Yes, but–“

“Thank you, dad!” Magnus crashes into him for a big hug.

“Not so fast, buddy,” Asmodeus says, letting out a longsuffering sigh he doesn’t feel as he hugs his son back. “There're some things we need to discuss first.”

“I know, I know! I’m responsible for him. But I can do it! I've read so many books and watched so many videos about how to take care of cats. I’ll make sure he has the best home ever!”

Asmodeus blinks. Huh. Yes, that tracks. “That’s great and I know you will. But I need you to hold on for a bit. We don’t know yet if someone might be looking for the little fella. Just because there was no microchip doesn’t mean nobody’s missing him. I’ll have to make some calls first, so don’t get your hopes up just yet.”

That it's too late for that last one is the understatement of the century.

“Oh.” Magnus' smile dims a little as he considers it. “Okay. But does that mean we can't take him home with us now either?”

“Ah, I'm afraid that wouldn’t be possible either way,” the doctor steps in. “Your little friend needs lots of rest and medical care. He’ll have to stay with us for a few days at least, so we can make sure he's okay.”

Thank heaven for the nice lady. Asmodeus wouldn’t have known how to phrase it without disappointing his son.

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense. While he's here we can make sure he has a nice cat-friendly space to come home to!”

Lord have mercy on him.

An overexcited fifteen-year-old at this hour. Magnus is acting like he was when he was ten and on a sugar rush. At this rate he might start rearranging furniture as soon as they get home instead of having dinner and going to bed on time. Asmodeus silently bids farewell to a good night’s sleep in the foreseeable future.

“We can do that, buddy. But not tonight.” He tries to look stern. He knows he fails spectacularly.

They leave shorty after, though not before Magnus shily asks the doctor if he can say goodnight to the cat. She takes pity on him and leads them into a cozy room with some sleeping and play areas. The kitten blinks sleepily up at his son when he kneels down to be on eye level. His fingers twitch like he wants to stroke him, but he does as instructed and holds back. It's a visible effort.

“Goodnight, kitty. I’ll see you soon,” he whispers to the sleepy cat, then nods in satisfaction and turns to leave. Not without a little wave, though, that reminds Asmodeus so much of when Magnus could barely reach his knees.

Ah, time flies.

🐈‍⬛

In the end the kitten had to stay at the clinic for another five days (“No, Magnus, we cannot call the clinic every two hours to get an update. They have our number and will contact us when it's time.”). Asmodeus had started making the necessary calls right away the next morning while Magnus went to school (“Do I have to go to school? I could help with… uhm… anything?”). As soon as he got the green light Magnus' room became a mess. To his credit he did clean everything afterwards, more thoroughly than ever before. Everything important was put back the way it was. The same could not be said for Asmodeus’ credit, which suffered greatly, thanks to a sudden and enthusiastic spree of online shopping.

He's not mad about it in the slightest, though. Aside from Magnus' clothes and the makeup that goes with them (which is frankly resistant to any single adjective, aside from radiant, maybe) that he always tries to buy from his allowance or the money he's making himself, he's never really asked for much. Asmodeus will let him have this one. He's more than earned it.

₍^. .^₎Ⳋ

It's Thursday evening when the clinic finally calls, telling them the kitten is doing well enough to be brought home the next day. Six days. He had to wait six days. Magnus is pretty much bouncing off the walls, doublechecking that everything they need is here.

Cat bed. Check. Toys. Check. Litterbox and cleaning products. Check. Lots of cat food. Check. …

It's a long list but Magnus makes sure to check again, just to be safe. He's so excited to bring the kitty home. His first real pet! When he was little, he used to practice what it might look like to have one with Mr Pebbles the turtle. Not the same, but it was a good start!

Now he gets to take care of a real one. Cat, not turtle, obviously. He even went to bed extra early so that time can go by faster. Not that it's working because he's still awake an hour later, fantasizing about all the things he can show the cat tomorrow.

Magnus turns around and pulls Mr Pebbles close to his chest for a cuddle. Some kids at school said it's childish to still have a stuffed animal. Magnus thinks they're being stupid. You're never too old to have one. Or two. Or five. Then again, they also said makeup and sparkly clothes are only for girls, so they're probably just ignorant and a little brain-dead.

The next day school goes by even slower than usual (which says a lot). Magnus can't sit still, even after being scolded for wiggling around too much twice. He can't help it, okay?

As soon as the bell rings he's out the door, racing down the street to get home. He usually takes the bus, but it's just a few stops and the bus is going soooo slow, too.

“Dad, dad! I'm home!” he yells as soon as the front door is unlocked.

“I can hear that,” comes the dry reply from the vicinity of the living room.

Magnus pays it no mind. “Can we go to the clinic now?”

Asmodeus comes out into the hallway, already dressed and ready to leave. Looks like he's just been waiting for Magnus.

Oh, his dad is the absolute best and he loves him so much.

An hour and a boatload of instructions later Magnus carefully sets the carrier with its precious cargo down onto the carpet in the living room and opens the door. He then steps back to give the kitten time to come out whenever he's ready. They’ve been told to not rush this, take it slow and let the cat decide when that is. It might take a while, but that’s okay. There’re a bowl of water and some food right next to the carrier, so the cat doesn’t have to go far if it doesn’t want to. And Magnus has time.

“Welcome home, kitty,” he whispers as he sits down cross-legged on the opposite side of the room, back against the wall.

“You know, he needs a name. You can't call him ‘kitty’ forever.”

Oh. His dad is right. He hadn’t even thought about that. With all the preparations he did, how did he miss one of the most important things?!

Magnus watches the kitten peek out of the carrier, carefully looking around. He doesn’t step outside yet, but he also doesn’t seem to hate what he sees. That’s what Magnus hopes, at least.

He thinks for a moment, then tries, “Bean.”

The kitten does not react in any way that suggests agreement.

“…No,” Magnus says, scrunching his nose. “That’s bad.”

Shadow, maybe? Or Milo?

No, absolutely not. Everybody and their neighbour knows a cat with those names. He wants something unique. Something special.

“Whiskers?” he offers, already shaking his head. That’s so uncreative it's almost painful.

He glances at his dad who's watching with a smile and… he's holding his phone in a suspicious way. He's totally taking pictures again. Ah, whatever.

“What about something strong? You were really strong and brave.” He thinks harder. “You're way too small for something like… I don’t know. Zeus.” A beat. “Yeah, no.”

The kitten yawns. One paw slowly stretches out to touch the carpet, then he jumps back inside. A minute later the paw emerges again, this time tapping the ground before a second paw follows.

Cute, cute, cute.

Magnus waits with bated breath, watching as the kitten cautiously leans forward.

First the nose appears, tiny and cute, whiskers trembling like he's testing the air. The kitten freezes for a second and Magnus immediately goes stock-still, barely even blinking.

Then the kitten musters all his courage. He hops out of the carrier the rest of the way in one small, clumsy jump, landing with an almost inaudible tap. Tiny toes splay against the carpet as it softly taps the ground. Magnus presses his lips together stop himself from cooing loudly. Those tiny paws are sooo tiny and fluffy.

The cat stays like that for a moment, looking proud and maybe a little surprised by his own bravery, before he starts sniffing around the bowl of water. A tiny pink tongue peeks out to have a taste. Magnus feels like his heart is about to burst right out of his chest. This must be the cutest thing he's ever seen in his entire life!

The kitten lifts his head from the bowl, blinks once, then twice, as if processing the fact that nothing bad has happened yet. That thought makes Magnus a little sad, but he pushes it away. Nothing bad will ever happen to him again, he’ll make sure of it.

Encouraged, the cat takes a few careful steps away from the carrier, hobbling slightly.

His leg must still hurt a bit, Magnus thinks, watching as the kitten gradually zigzags closer. The doctor did say some more rest and medicine is necessary until he’s fully healed again.

Stopping every couple of inches to sniff, the cat fully sits down just out of reach, looking up at Magnus with big eyes. Magnus swears he can feel his heart melting.

Maybe the cat recognizes him? It doesn’t seem afraid, at the very least.

Magnus leans forward to lay his hand on the carpet, palm up, movements very slowly to not startle his new roommate. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Meow?” It's just a tiny sound, but it rings loud in the otherwise quiet room. It sounds questioning.

“I promise,” Magnus reassures. “I’ll protect you.”

That’s what he promised to do, didn’t he? Magnus vaguely remembers making a promise like that.

He did make a few promises to the kitten, sure, but there's something else nagging at the back of his mind. When did he…

“Oh.”

The kitten looks at him with what can only be described as a questioning expression. Magnus quickly smiles, even though he feels sad all of a sudden.

He did make that promise. To Alec. Just before he had to leave.

There are days he still misses his best friend so much it hurts, even though it's been years.

Magnus quickly shakes away the sad thoughts. Today is a happy day. He once read that cats can sense emotions. The kitty is supposed to feel welcome, not sad. The memory of his best friend did give him an idea, though. They had so many plans for a big cat kingdom, ruled by a cat king.

Chairman Meow.

They agreed that Chairman Meow will rule, protecting all other cats and being protected by them. Alec isn’t here anymore, so Magnus will have to work twice as hard to protect him. He can do that.

“Chairman Meow,” Magnus softly says, testing the name.

It sounds right.

A big smile spreads across his face even as he has to blink back a tear.

“Your name is Chairman Meow.”

The kitten blinks up at him with big, startingly green eyes, then pads closer and bumps his head against Magnus' outstretched hands.

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Mrrrrrp,” Chairman Meow purrs in agreement, the vibration tickling Magnus' palm.

Magnus laughs.

“Welcome home, Chairman Meow.”

/•᷅‎‎•᷄\੭/•᷅‎‎•᷄\੭

Ever since then Chairman Meow has become Magnus' closest companion and a constant reminder of the beautiful friendship he used to have. And the first feline employee when he turned this normal café into a cat café.

They were soon joined by Church, who belongs to his good friend Catarina. Both cats are what could be called extroverts in cat form while ‘on duty’. They're anything but shy and absolutely love the attention. It's quite rare for them to not want to engage with the guests in any way, which is why they're a permanent fixture. Their open and confident nature is also really helpful for welcoming newcomers.

There are constantly new cats joining the rotation, since the café is linked to the cat shelter Magnus and Catarina co-own. It's one of Magnus' greatest accomplishments, that he managed to make this happen. The café itself is for the most part self-sufficient, so most of the excess income as well as all the donations go to their cat shelter.

They rescue and take care of abandoned felines, getting them all the health checks they need and giving them a (hopefully) temporary home. If they like the café atmosphere and are agreeable to the whole cat café concept (that’s always a bit of trial and error to figure out), they become a part of the kitty roster. While adoption directly from the shelter is of course possible, using the café as another way to gain people’s attention has been working wonderfully. By now Magnus' café is not just known for having cute cats and good coffee, but also for the bigger concept of finding lost kitties a new home.

Their success is hugely thanks to Magnus' friends, a fact he never gets tired of to thank them for.

For one, at the shelter. Catarina is a nurse working shifts at the local hospital, but she never hesitates to help out as a part-time vet, doing health checks and taking care of all the medical stuff Magnus couldn’t figure out if his life depended on it. She’s great like that, and overqualified for both jobs in Magnus' opinion.

Magnus himself might be co-owner, but it's actually Luke who really runs the place and gives direction to all the amazing volunteers helping out. Luke’s been working in animal rescue most of his life. Magnus couldn’t be more grateful for all his help, especially in the beginning when Magnus tried get started on realizing his dream and felt like he had no clue what he was doing.

Luke is also the one who introduced him to Clary and Simon, two bright, if not a little (a lot) chaotic students. Clary’s been helping realize his vision for the café, coordinating interior design and creating some stunning artwork that’s now decorating the walls. Simon has become Magnus' first permanent human employee only two weeks after they first met. Magnus had been looking for a barista and/or server, while Simon had been looking for a job to finance his online studies. It all worked out perfectly in the end.

Magnus will be sad to see him go but Clary’s been accepted to a prestigious art academy, and there's no doubt about whether Simon will move with her. The new commute would be a little more than Magnus could accept. Luckily for him it's still some time until they leave; enough for him to find a new barista.

Then of course there's Ragnor, who originally owned the café – without cats, naturally. Magnus has been helping out ever since he moved to Brooklyn. He started as a simple server as a second job to earn some extra money to make his dream of a cat shelter come true. It hadn’t taken long for Ragnor and him to become close friends, and Magnus taking on more and more responsibilities, even managing the place temporarily from time to time. Recently, Ragnor’s health has forced him to take a step back and contrary to Magnus' belief it had not taken any begging for his friend to not close and sell the café, but let Magnus take over. The old cabbage is fine, luckily, off to some spa resort sipping cocktails no doubt.

With Rafael’s help as his manager, they were able to turn the normal café into a cat café and connect it to Magnus' small shelter he had started. Rafael took care of the ridiculous amounts of paperwork which was (and still is) a blessing.

With his help they also established a few new rules for potential adopters: Now there's a minimum number of visits required, either at the café or the shelter, so the cats have time to get comfortable and show whether they like the people or not. And Rafael has his own ways of vetting new potentials. If anyone were to ask Magnus, he would have to admit that Rafael can be downright terrifying. He has his way of silently but very obviously judging people, plus some other potentially illegal ways. Magnus has decided to not ask any questions and just let him do his thing. Their system works and that’s all that matters. Happy cats.

Magnus sighs happily. This has always been his dream.

Well, his and …

His smile turns a little sad. His and Alec's.

Magnus hasn’t heard from Alec in a long time.

The time after he left – had to leave – was the hardest Magnus can ever remember. He knows he gave his dad some more grey hairs back then when he refused to go to school for weeks after. Or when he came crying to his room in the middle of the night because Alec wouldn’t climb through his window ever again (there has also been a fun conversation about that because Asmodeus was not impressed). Magnus has never been more grateful that his dad is such a patient man.

He never scolded Magnus for being sad, never tried to tell him to move on. He did help in his own way, trying to keep him occupied with less time for spiralling thoughts. Magnus should definitely give him a call. He's been so busy recently, he hasn’t talked to Asmodeus in almost two weeks when usually they chat at least twice a week. His dad is another avid helper in his shelter when he's not busy giving piano lessons.

After Alec’s first letter arrived, Magnus almost eagerly went back to school to practice writing as much as possible. Perhaps it's just his imagination, but Magnus is convinced it was just because of those letters that he learned how to write neatly but fast. He spent hours every day jotting down anything and everything to send back as soon as he got a reply to the last one.

Unfortunately, as time went on, their letters became fewer and farther between. They both went to school, met new people, became busy with life. Magnus started working two to three jobs to save money for his shelter (he refused to accept Asmodeus financing it for him, something his dad proudly accepted unless it was for emergencies) which didn’t leave him with a lot of time for anything else. Last he heard Alec had been promoted from intern into some leadership program in his parents’ company, to be trained to take over in the future. That was years ago.

Magnus honestly can't even remember which of them both sent the last letter (but he has the sinking feeling it was Alec). He was so busy at the time he at first didn’t even realize no more letters were coming until over half a year later. When he did, it felt like a slap. Because he didn’t miss his best friend or even think about him in over six months. What kind of friend does that?

After that Magnus felt too insecure to reply to the last one he received. What was he supposed to say? Hi, sorry I forgot about you. Been busy. It felt wrong and he was ashamed, so he kept putting it off. I’ll do it tomorrow. I’ll do it on the weekend. I’ll do it next week when I have some free time. … He never did.

And because there were no more letters coming from Alec either, Magnus kept telling himself that maybe Alec wasn’t interested anymore and so it's not that bad. Another eight years later and Magnus feels so awful about it now. Beyond that, really.

After signing the contract for the café, he sat down and wrote a short letter. Just asking how Alec has been, and apologizing for not reaching out in so long, foolishly hoping to reestablish some contact.

The letter was returned to sender a week later.

Magnus should’ve expected it, really. It's not the first time Alec moved, and it most likely won't be the last either. Maybe it's a sign from the universe that they're just not meant to be frien–

“Mrrrooo?” A soft paw taps against his cheek and Magnus opens his eyes to peer down, surprised when he has to blink a couple of times to get rid of the moisture blurring his vision. Chairman Meow is looking up at him with his head tilted to the side, one paw still tapping against Magnus' cheek.

“Oh.” Magnus smiles and quickly wipes the tears away. “Don’t worry, Chairman. I’m okay.” He scratches the cat behind the ears, earning a long miau and another inquisitive look.

Magnus swears this cat can understand every single word he says. The Chairman is more intelligent than most of the people Magnus knows combined. Not too hard, Magnus knows a lot of morons, but still.

“You know,” Magnus starts, clearing his throat. “I had a really great friend when I was a kid. His name is Alec. He used to climb through my window a lot.”

Chairman Meow sinks down to put his head back onto his front paws and watches Magnus intently. Case in point. Even Church trots over and flops down next to his head to listen.

So Magnus tells them about all their great adventures and stories they came up with to let cats rule the world.