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Cat Food

A/N: I’m glad you guys liked that last one-shot! Enjoy this one too! It actually has nothing to do with cat food, lol. Enjoy :)

“Are you cat food? Because you smell like something I do not want.”

This pet store job was probably the best Mitch had ever had. Shelving items and being a cashier was easy enough, and he even got to play with the puppies and kittens up for adoption! Coolest job ever. Of course, he didn’t exactly like spending his weekdays and Saturday afternoons in a dingy building with gross fluorescent lighting, but it was totally worth it.

He had his eye on one of the rescue kittens, a gray sphynx named Wyatt, and he had been saving up for a long time to adopt him before someone else did. He was a beautiful, sweet-natured cat, but hairless breeds were expensive. Mitch wasn’t sure if he could afford to buy him at first, but he had set up a budget plan: every week, he would put $15 in a glass mason jar (which he dubbed the “Wyatt Fund”) that he kept on his dresser. Those deposits, combined with the extra Saturday shift Mitch had picked up, would eventually be enough to pay for the precious little kitten, and Mitch could hardly wait.

Wyatt had been up for adoption for a while now, since most people found those types of cats gross, but Mitch loved him. Every time he went into the cat room to feed the kittens, Wyatt would run over and rub his little face against Mitch’s leg, meowing until he picked him up and petted him. Mitch always scratched him right behind the ears, and Wyatt would close his eyes and purr until he was almost asleep. It was adorable. He felt that Wyatt captured his aesthetic. He was a rare and precious queen, just like Mitch, and he simply had to have him somehow.

As it turns out, he would have him eventually, but not in the way he had initially expected.

It was one of his Saturday afternoons spent working, and Mitch was stocking food bowls in the aisle nearest to the cat room. It was mindless work; check the item number, place the stack of bowls on the shelf, push it back, mark the item off on his inventory sheet, repeat. Switch to a different item. Repeat. Mitch liked it, though. He could let his body run on autopilot while he let his mind wander to other things.

He was in an especially good mood today. Lately, he had upped his weekly deposit amounts to $20 in order to be able to afford Wyatt faster, and while his caffeine-addicted brain had not been thanking him for the Starbucks sacrifices, he knew it was all gonna be worth it. He was only two weeks away from his $950 goal!

Kirstie had told him multiple times that paying nearly a grand for a cat was ridiculous, but she just didn’t get it. Mitch had wanted this cat for over half a year. Hell, he needed this cat, and quite frankly, this cat needed him. The adoption clinic wasn’t exactly a luxury pet hotel, and Wyatt was getting older and more antsy by the day. He needed someone to keep him constant company, not look through the plexiglass that cut him off from the outside world. Mitch had done his research, and sphynx cats were a lot of work, but he was more than willing to step up to the challenge. He loved that cat more than anything.

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind Mitch, snapping him out of his daydream. He turned around, and there was a cute blonde guy in a Joyrich sweatshirt. “I was wondering if I could look at the cats that are up for adoption.”

Mitch set his inventory sheet down, giving the stranger a quick up-down glance. Thin but strong, broad shoulders, nice hair. “Certainly,” he replied with his sweetest smile, walking in front of the customer towards the cat room. “Right this way, sir.” The guy followed Mitch as he came up to the locked door and took out his key ring, sticking the key in the lock and turning until he could pull the door open, holding it open for the blonde to walk inside the tiny room. “What kind of cat are you looking to adopt?” Mitch asked, closing the door behind him and flicking on the lights. Immediately, the cats came swarming from all corners of the room and surrounded them, meowing their heads off. They were obviously hopeful for some extra treats, but Mommy’s little babies would just have to wait until 3:30.