069: Catnip
Sang Zhao was delighted.
What was this? Stretch out a tiny paw and touch it… oh, this was a little pair of kitten slippers, for a little cat.
Disposable hotel slippers were one thing, but this was different. This time he was using his own cat body to wear slippers made from his own cat fur. That felt incredibly cool.
He even asked, “Gege, do you think they look good?”
What was Tang Yu supposed to say to that? It was hard to describe.
Honestly speaking, the slippers themselves were just a thin felted sole with a plain strap across the top, no pattern at all. You really couldn’t call them “good-looking.” Pretty? Not really. Just a basic pair.
But they were made from his kitten’s fur. And they were on his kitten’s feet right now.
This wasn’t a matter of pretty or not anymore. Who cared if they were pretty? They were adorable.
The little cat was holding up his foot for him, showing off his new slippers.
Tang Yu stared and stared. In the end he had to suck in a deep breath, cover his chest, and look away.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep staring. It was that if he kept staring, his heart wouldn’t be able to take it.
He really couldn’t keep looking. It was like the human brain came with an anti-addiction system. If you stared at something too cute for too long, strange, violent thoughts would start wandering in.
Like… wanting to flatten the cat and swallow him whole. He had no idea what kind of messed-up instinct that was. He just wanted to squish the fluffy cat together like a soft steamed bun and chomp.
Tang Yu cleared his throat and forced his thoughts back into their cage.
“Do they fit?” he asked, saying something that made no sense but sounded cute. “Is this your shoe size? Wait, no, your… paw size?”
Very dramatic.
Sang Zhao wiggled a bit and decided they were fine. They were a little big, but that was okay. Slippers were better a bit loose so his feet wouldn’t feel crowded.
“Then you should make me two more, so I have four shoes,” Sang Zhao said. He flicked his paws and shook the slippers off.
Tail held high, he padded over to Tang Yu and rubbed against his leg. “If I have four shoes I can actually wear them. You’re a little dumb too, you forgot cats have four feet.”
He wasn’t wrong. Tang Yu knew cats had four feet, but when he was making slippers, his hands just naturally made one pair.
Thinking about his orange, fluffy, strawberry-paw-pad feet, four of them lined up, made Tang Yu want to laugh.
Sang Zhao hopped into Tang Yu’s lap and stepped firmly on his thigh a few times, kneading around as if searching for the perfect spot. Once he found it, he plopped down.
The pose was obvious. This was the “please groom your cat” position. He was offering himself up for brushing so Tang Yu could collect more fur for slippers.
Tang Yu picked up the special pet brush he’d bought just for him. It was the kind with a round head and a little button on the back. The metal pins stuck out while brushing, and when you pushed the button afterward, the little circle of fur fell off in a neat puck.
So instead of loose tufts, he collected tidy little fur pancakes.
As he brushed, the cat in his lap started up his motor, purring away. The sound rumbled through Tang Yu’s chest like a tiny engine.
Listening to that, seeing the growing pile of soft fur pancakes at his side, he couldn’t help chuckling. “What am I, a master baker? Why am I making so many little cakes?”
He nudged the cat. “What kind of cakes are these?”
He was clearly teasing him, which meant of course Sang Zhao took the bait. “Cat cakes?”
“Why is my little cat so good to me?” Tang Yu rubbed his head, smoothing over his ears again and again. “You were worried I’d get hungry while brushing you, so you made me cat cakes to eat, right?”
When he wanted to tease someone, Tang Yu could be really bad. He even lowered his voice on purpose, softer than usual, syrupy enough to drip.
“It’s just that these cat cakes are a little thin. Next time, make them thicker, okay?”
Sang Zhao’s ears twitched. He didn’t answer. He just meowed once.
“Meow~”
Soft, drawn-out, with his throat slightly pinched. No human could resist that. It went straight into Tang Yu’s heart.
Tang Yu brushed him for quite a while. Finally, after he’d collected enough fur to make the rest of the slippers, he was satisfied.
He scritched the little cat’s head a few more times, scratched under his chin, pampered him until the cat was boneless and limp with comfort.
Then the cat stretched on his lap, arched his back, pushed up with his paws, turned from a curled little ball into one long cat loaf, shook his ears, flicked his feet, hopped down… and changed back into a human.
Once he changed back, Tang Yu felt a pang of regret.
Having a catboy boyfriend was too good. Once a human had a catboy boyfriend, he had both a boyfriend and a cat. That was the best deal on earth.
But life was unfair. The cat and the boyfriend couldn’t exist at the same time.
He couldn’t cuddle his boyfriend while petting his cat. All he could do was cuddle the cat, then cuddle the boyfriend afterward.
Right now, cat mode had switched to boyfriend mode.
“If only human-you and cat-you could exist together,” Tang Yu said wistfully.
As soon as he said that, Sang Zhao frowned and stared at him.
“Huh? One of me isn’t enough, you still want two? Gege, you like me way too much. So annoying.”
He said it on purpose, and sure enough, Tang Yu’s ears went red. He grabbed him and tumbled with him onto the sofa.
Sang Zhao’s attention went straight to the tiny ponytail at the back of Tang Yu’s neck.
He reached out to touch it. Tang Yu obediently lowered his head a little, letting him do whatever he wanted.
Sang Zhao tugged twice, then gathered the little tail into his hand and rolled it between his fingers.
So fluffy. Soft, dark, curled into a tiny tuft.
It wasn’t long enough to stick out dramatically, just a small nub of a ponytail. Because Tang Yu’s hair was fine and soft, it always shrank into a little ball, like a rabbit tail.
Too bad it was black instead of white.
After feeling it carefully, he nodded to himself. Yes. Definitely a little black rabbit tail.
When he’d been in cat form, he’d liked launching himself from far away, turning on “cat car mode” and zooming full speed to the back of Tang Yu’s neck just to paw at that little tuft.
Now in human form he was still playing with it, grab and release, twist and fuss, completely absorbed.
He really was trying to be gentle, so it hardly hurt. It just tickled. A constant itchy feeling spread from the back of Tang Yu’s neck, making him hunch his shoulders and let out a few muffled laughs.
After enough poking and tugging, his hair was a mess.
Staring at the chaos, Sang Zhao suddenly remembered how patiently Tang Yu had brushed his fur just now.
He was not a selfish bad cat. If Tang Yu had groomed him so carefully, then he had a responsibility to groom Tang Yu too.
“I’ll do your hair,” he said, excited. “I’ll braid it, or do a fishtail. I saw how in a video. There was a tutorial.”
Unfortunately, humanity was about to fail this cat’s kindness.
All those braids and styles from the videos required longer hair. Tang Yu’s wasn’t that long.
He had a wolf-cut style: the front and sides were a bit longer and tousled, and the back just barely tied into that tiny ponytail. It was already doing all the work purely by existing.
Fishtails and fancy braids simply weren’t happening.
Once Sang Zhao realized that, he still refused to admit defeat.
He slid the elastic from Tang Yu’s hair, and with that one pull, the little tail fell loose over his shoulders.
His hair was on the longer side for a man, so once it came down, it brushed along his collarbones. The wolf-cut made his features look even more delicate, with a lazy rock-ish charm.
“Gege looks really good with his hair down,” the cat said. He couldn’t explain how it was good. It just was.
Tang Yu glanced at him, then lowered his head again and tilted it helpfully so the cat could keep playing.
On the surface, it looked like he was letting his boyfriend style his hair. In reality, he was turning himself into a toy for his cat, offering his head up for petting the way he’d just offered the cat’s fur.
If anyone else saw this, they’d probably sigh: what a bizarre couple.
Being soulmates and lovers was no longer enough. They’d leveled up to being each other’s favorite toy.
Clumsy and serious, Sang Zhao started to tie his hair.
He looped the elastic around the gathered ends, twisted it twice, let go, then fluffed and patted, trying to make it look fuller.
When he leaned back to inspect his work, he had to admit… something felt even messier now.
Guilt started creeping in.
Luckily, Tang Yu didn’t mind mess. He felt around his head and looked very pleased.
What was there to be unhappy about? He was at home, not heading to a board meeting. Letting his boyfriend mess up his hair was nothing to complain about.
If anything, it was proof of how in love they were. He felt smug.
Seeing that guilty look, Tang Yu’s mind turned. He decided to take advantage of the moment.
“I bought something for you,” he said.
Sang Zhao perked up and sat properly on the sofa, curious.
Tang Yu went to the cabinet, rummaged for a bit, then came back with a small, transparent jar. Inside were little dried bits that looked like seeds or chopped herbs.
“It’s catnip,” Tang Yu said, smiling.
Sang Zhao’s expression changed instantly. He waved his hands frantically. “I-I already quit!”
Catnip had a natural pull on cats. They could get addicted, and once they smelled it, they easily slid into that fuzzy, drunk state, like being tipsy on alcohol.
After he started living as a human, he quit. He was afraid that if he got high on catnip, he’d end up in some viral city-center video: “Man turns into cat and rolls on the sidewalk.”
If he really did that, Director Li would sprint down the street at full speed, reach him in ten seconds, and slam a bag over his head.
“I don’t sniff it anymore, wuwuwu,” he said, appalled.
Tang Yu was very curious. He wanted to see what a drunk cat looked like.
“I basically quit smoking too,” Tang Yu coaxed. “But I still sometimes have one. It’s fine, you can try some. I’m curious… alright, I admit it, I’m dying of curiosity.”
He’d been curious for a long time. If cats were so affected by catnip, what about a cat yaoguai? Would it hit the same?
His eyes were bright, his gaze almost pleading.
Sang Zhao huffed. “I’m not using catnip in human form. I’ll turn into a cat and sniff it twice.”
That was his compromise.
Tang Yu thought that sounded more than fair. As long as he got to see his cat, he was happy.
He poured a small pile onto the table. Sang Zhao turned back into a little orange tabby, hopped nimbly up, lowered his head… and daintily sniffed.
Then, dignity vanished.
He sneezed, hard. It had been too long. The smell hit his nose like a punch.
After that, the catnip went straight into his skull. It didn’t bother with reason, it just charged. Even the inside of his head felt a bit tingly.
His legs and paws both went weak. He couldn’t stand properly, so he flopped sideways on the table, exposing his orange belly.
Before he even realized it, he’d rolled twice along the tabletop, then bounced back to the little pile and started sniffing again. Over and over.
Tang Yu was laughing so hard his stomach hurt. This tipsy little orange looked too adorable.
How could a cat this perfect exist, one that hit every single preference he had?
He picked up his phone and started taking pictures, wanting to record every second. As he snapped photo after photo, his heart filled with a very real wave of gratitude.
He was so lucky to have met Sang Zhao.
As a cat, he was pure gold from head to tail, every hair and every paw pad poking straight into Tang Yu’s heart.
As a human, he was beautiful and handsome at once, the first person who’d ever made Tang Yu think, just from his face, this kid is adorable.
Tang Yu was still focused on capturing a close-up of the cat’s hazy, catnip-soft eyes when everything suddenly changed.
In the blink of an eye, the small orange cat vanished.
And a human slammed into him.
The cat that had been sprawled on the table changed shape mid-roll, feet planting on the wood, legs bending, and launched straight at him, knocking him backward onto the sofa.
Tang Yu’s phone flew out of his hand and landed on the rug, but nobody cared.
Sang Zhao’s head was fuzzy, but he knew one thing: his current drunkenness was entirely Tang Yu’s fault.
So he blamed him and started making trouble.
He took hold of Tang Yu’s chin and yanked him in for a deep kiss.
Normally, his kisses were like little bird pecks, soft and quick. Right now, the cat had remembered he was a carnivore. Once a cat ate meat, plain kibble lost all appeal.
He started by holding his chin, but as the kiss went on, his hands moved to Tang Yu’s collar.
Tang Yu laughed low in his chest the whole time, going along with everything. His relaxed, indulgent attitude only poured more fuel on the cat’s fire.
Sang Zhao tore open his collar and yanked the shirt aside, then dropped his head to bite his chest.
He bit hard. Hard enough to leave clear teeth marks.
Tang Yu hissed. “Tss—”
With his head still buried against Tang Yu’s chest, the cat rubbed his cheek there and muttered in confusion, “It doesn’t smell as good as before.”
Tang Yu blinked. “Hm? What doesn’t?”
“The catnip doesn’t smell as good as before,” Sang Zhao mumbled. “I still get drawn to it and want to play, but it’s not like before, when it felt like every part of my head and belly was filled with catnip.”
Why did it sound like he was accusing him of buying fake catnip?
Tang Yu was puzzled too. “I bought normal catnip. Or… should I have bought silvervine instead?”
Silence. Then a soft hum. “No. It’s because you smell good.”
Tang Yu smelled really nice.
There was the dry scent of paper and ink. A faint trace of old cigarette smoke from before he quit, just sharp enough that the cat wouldn’t normally like it, yet light enough that it sat exactly on the border between dislike and fascination, turning into pure stimulation.
There was cologne, or aftershave, with a hint of sea air and black tea.
There were notes from his shampoo and body wash, something green like basil, or maybe something woody.
Altogether, it was a complicated scent.
A whole bundle of smells braided together into one: the smell of Tang Yu.
Sang Zhao held him and sniffed and sniffed, then declared, “Mm, this is still my favorite.”
Compared to the instinctive pull of catnip, he realized he liked Tang Yu’s scent more.
“I’ll still be attracted to catnip,” he said seriously. “But I like you more.”
So after rolling around with the catnip for a while, he’d still managed to rein in his instincts and let his human thoughts win.
He turned into a man, pounced into his lover’s arms, breathed him in, and left a trail of kisses over his chest.
He didn’t know how to say sweet things. He wasn’t good with love talk.
But if, in his world, a human could beat catnip one hundred percent of the time, wasn’t that already the sweetest confession?
Tang Yu pressed a hand to the bite mark on his chest and sighed happily. “Thank you.”
Right. The cat had bitten him hard enough to leave teeth marks, and he still thanked him.
Yep, Director Li was right. Tang Yu absolutely had lover brain.
That night, Sang Zhao stayed over.
No popcorn maker had to fire up in the middle of the night to lure him into the master bedroom. He didn’t need any tricks this time. He went there on his own, completely justified.
They only finally fell asleep after messing around until nearly dawn.
In the early morning, Tang Yu woke up, still half asleep, and reached automatically for the top of his head.
He was used to it now. He didn’t feel for the blanket or the person next to him. He reached up, searching his pillow and the crown of his head for his cat.
Today, nothing.
He sat up, looked around, and saw Sang Zhao busy at work. On the curtains.
Caught in the act, the cat froze, then plopped his furry butt down on the carpet and tried to look pathetic.
“Will you be mad at me?” he asked.
Tang Yu shook his head, voice hoarse but firm.
Mad at his cat? Impossible in this lifetime.
“How could I?” he said. “My cat made me custom fringe curtains. My cat is the best.”
Sang Zhao’s expression stayed perfectly calm, but his tail was held high, tip swaying side to side like a little musical note.
That tail said his mood was absolutely excellent. His tail was literally dancing.
“Cat is good. Human isn’t bad, either,” he said proudly, head lifted.
The sight made Tang Yu’s heart melt.
An urge shot up from somewhere deep inside him, an overwhelming urge to bite something.
Too cute. It was too much. He couldn’t hold back. He physically could not.
Still wrapped in his quilt, he launched himself off the bed headfirst.
Sang Zhao stared at him in horror.
He didn’t move. Because this was his boyfriend, the cat stayed put and let him fall. That was him being polite.
If this weren’t his boyfriend, he either would’ve run or scratched him and then run.
There was no question about what Tang Yu was doing.
His legs and hips, the lower half of him, stayed on the bed. His head and arms, the upper half, were propped on the floor, his body like a seesaw, draped right in front of the cat.
Out in public he was a CEO. At home he was a shirtless creep wrapped in a blanket, lunging face-first at his cat.
He wasn’t lunging for anything else. He just wanted to plant a big kiss on the top of that cat’s head.
“…”
Sang Zhao silently washed his face with his paw.
“Cat is still good,” he drawled. “Human is starting to be bad.”
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