Work Text:
Lynx was standing frozen in the café, unable to move, barely able to think or feel. It was raining outside heavily, each drop beating against the huge glass windows mercilessly, making Lynx feel like it was trying to break in. He already felt like he was underwater, the world around him was distant, the café was spinning, the cats were all a blur, and yet, he somehow felt their eyes on him, judging or blaming him. He felt like throwing up.
He could still hear the echo of the door shutting behind the young man as he left in a hurry, only seconds ago. His half-brother.
Fuck. He had a brother?
He had always thought of himself as an only child. Just him and his mother. Their relationship had been complicated, but it was all he had. When he thought of family, she was it. There was a time when he tried to make sense of it all, to understand her, but somewhere along the way, he gave up trying. But now his father had a new family. Another son? And his mother knew about it? And somehow, no on one thought to tell him?
Why was it always him who was left out, left behind, forgotten? A mistake.
But then Tiger came along.
At that thought, he realized Tiger had been standing behind him the whole time, he’d witnessed the entire conversation between him and his brother.
You didn’t even know? This place doesn’t belong to you, your mother wanted to leave it to me. Actually, I’m here to take back what’s mine.
Lynx turned just enough to glance at Tiger’s face and he met his eyes. Those same, kind and worried eyes. Tiger’s concern usually comforted him but now it burned him. He didn’t want pity or sympathy.
“Hey-” Tiger started, but Lynx didn’t let him finish.
“Leave me alone,” and he was already heading to the door.
He heard Tiger calling after him, something about the rain but his voice was faded because of the storm, too late.
He was already outside.
He felt the rain drench his clothes immediately, his curls stuck to his head, and he could barely see from the rain in his eyes. He finally let the tears come running down his face, it felt hot mixing with the cold rain. He kept running. It was almost freeing, like a punishment, he felt like he deserved to drown a little.
Because everything he had always feared, was now true.
His father had another family. He never cared about him. His mother loved someone else’s child more than him. She never wanted Lynx to run the café, never trusted him. This café, the cats, this town, none of it wanted him. This whole thing was just a big mistake in his fucked-up, pointless life.
In some ways he had always known those things to be true, and now he felt almost a kind of satisfaction. But deep down, he secretly wanted to be proven wrong, though he never dared admit to himself. He was stupid enough to believe otherwise. But...in the past few months, he had let himself forget. And hope.
When his mother died, it came as a shock but he tried to keep it together, as always. He hadn’t seen her in a while. He moved away from her and from this café when he turned eighteen, and rarely came back, sometimes he felt guilty about it. He’d gone to university, got his own apartment, tried to build a life. He wasn’t really ambitious, he didn’t care about making a lot of money or having a perfect life. He just wanted a normal one, a job he enjoyed, a good enough apartment. Maybe someone to come home to, to not feel this alone all the time. And he did love music. He loved singing and he was always good at acting out different voices. That was his joy. He was planning to do something with that.
Then suddenly her mother was gone. And he had to come back to this little town full of ghosts and memories. He felt like he wasn’t strong enough for that. But when he arrived someone was already in the café.
A tall man with kind, knowing eyes was there, waiting for him.
The first time he saw him, his heart, which hadn’t worked right in a long time, actually skipped a beat. Lynx was surprised, it had been still for so long.
He stepped into the café, and the guy was just...there. Talking to one of the cats like it was the most normal thing in the world. It was weird. And kind of endearing. Lynx didn’t know what to do with that.
Then he turned around, and Lynx really looked at him.
There was an immediate attraction, which annoyed him a little. The man was tall and muscular, but not in a showy way. Lynx hated guys like that. He had long hair, big eyes, and lips that were, frankly, kind of stupidly beautiful. Lynx caught himself staring at them and quickly looked away.
He felt like the man blushed too, then he greeted him and said his condolences. Offered his hand. When their hands met it felt like something sparked between them.
He learned his name, Tiger.
He was a debt collector, and Lynx quickly realized he was in an even bigger mess than he’d anticipated. His mother had taken out a huge loan on the place, so he couldn’t just sell it off like he’d originally planned.
He was very lost. But somehow, Tiger had come up with a solution: keep the place running and become business partners.
Lynx didn’t really feel like he had a choice. He wasn’t good with the cats, didn’t know anything about coffee, and he definitely wasn’t the type to smile at customers all day, especially not with how he was feeling inside.
But Tiger said he would help. And Lynx wasn’t in a position to refuse help, any kind of help.
In fact, he was desperate for it. He wanted to be saved. He wanted someone to hold him. He wanted to cry in someone’s lap and scream about how unfair everything was, how he thought his entire life had been a mistake.
But instead, he kept his cool, like he always did, and agreed to try running the place with Tiger, to be able to pay off his mother’s debt.
It turned out that Tiger actually knew what he was doing. He was good with customers. He made great coffee. And somehow, all the cats adored him too. He always knew how to make them happy, it was like he spoke some secret language. Lynx often thought they were all talking behind his back, probably saying something about how distant he was or how he should try being a bit nicer. All kinds of things. Maybe he imagined it, or maybe he was just finally going crazy.
But Tiger helped with everything. He made the café shine, filled it with life and warmth. Made the cats happy, the customers loved him.
And Lynx...started to like him, too.
He’d been attracted to him from the start, sure, that part was obvious. But it became more than that, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Just that it made everything...complicated.
There was something in Tiger’s eyes that pulled Lynx in, the way he looked at him like he was reading him. Lynx never let anyone too close and he didn’t like that about Tiger at first.
But Tiger was relentless. No matter how indifferent Lynx tried to be, no matter how grumpy he acted, how few words he gave, Tiger never seemed to mind. Lynx wasn’t the most talkative person. And he wasn’t exactly in the best place in his life. But Tiger just looked at him with those eyes, and Lynx felt like he was being seen, maybe too clearly.
And when he did talk with him, Tiger listened in a way that made Lynx feel like he didn’t need to explain everything, his grief, his loneliness, his general disillusionment with the world. It was like Tiger just understood.
Bit by bit, they came to know each other. Small things, pieces of their lives. They talked about a lot of things. Their café, the cats, their childhood, Lynx’s mom, Tiger’s own family, his own troubles. Lynx sometimes wondered maybe he wasn’t the only one trying to survive something.
Their hands brushed sometimes, that same spark. Their eyes would meet, and Lynx would panic, look away, pretend it didn’t mean anything. But Tiger started to not look away.
And he started to stay. Lynx never asked him to.
Sometimes, he caught Tiger staring. Once, while he was talking, he was sure Tiger had been looking at his lips, the same way Lynx had that very first day. Tiger always found excuses to stay around the café all the time. Lynx noticed, and he wondered why. Was there someone Tiger liked? Could it be him?
Probably not.
But still, Lynx started forgetting how much he’d been hurting. Everything felt lighter when Tiger was around.
He also oticed how Tiger remembered random things Lynx had said causally. He started to bring him his favorite snacks from the market without ever asking. Lynx started to make coffee for him before he arrived, so they could have it together while sharing the snacks, before the shift began. It had become their morning routine. Something to look forward to.
One night after a bad day, one of those when even getting out of bed had taken everything for Lynx, Tiger did all he could to make it easier. He stayed late and handled all the closing too. Lynx hadn’t said a word. That night, he stood by the stairs in silence for nearly a minute, before whispering a thank you and slipped away to his room, his heart pounding in his chest, for reasons he didn’t want to name.
The next evening, Tiger was stalling again, wiping down the counter for the third time. Lynx finished the last table and set the cloth aside, then wandered over to the window seat. He sat down and stared out at the street beyond the garden.
“I used to think I’d be somewhere else by now.”
Tiger glanced up.
“Anywhere but here” Lynx added. “Not that I had a real plan. I just thought I’d be someone else.”
Tiger wiped his hands and came over, sitting at the other end of the seat. Close, but not too close. “Someone else how?”
“I don’t know. Less angry. Less bitter. Less alone.”
“You don’t seem any of those things to me. And you’re not alone.”
Lynx looked at him. “You don’t know me.”
“I’m trying to,” Tiger said softly. “On days you let me.”
Lynx’s throat felt tight. He looked back out the window. “I’m just tired of feeling like this. Life is not...it’s not how I imagined it would be.”
“It never is.” Tiger said.
“People always say things get better. Just wait. Your time will come.” He sighed. “All of that that shit. Sometimes it doesn’t come. Not for everyone. Sometimes you just....”
But he didn’t finish the sentence.
After a long pause, Lynx said, “I used to sing, you know. At uni. I wasn’t great, but people said I had a nice voice. And I used to do voices when I was a kid. For the cats, playing alone with them.” He laughed, embarrassed. “Sometimes my mum would sing and I’d listen from upstairs. I think I got my voice from her.”
“I believe that” Tiger said with a soft smile.
Lynx looked down at his lap. “I thought maybe I could do something with it. But then she died. And I came back here.” He took a breath and swallowed hard. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid” Tiger said. “You’re just having a hard time. Anyone would.”
“I’m always having a hard time” Lynx muttered. “I think since I was twelve.”
Tiger didn’t respond. He didn’t offer some meaningless words about things getting better. He just took Lynx’s hand in his and brushed his fingers over his knuckles.
And somehow, that made Lynx’s eyes burn.
He pressed his other hand to his face and laughed. “Sorry. I’m a mess tonight.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
Lynx pulled his legs up. “Do you ever feel like maybe...love was not meant for you?”
Tiger was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, I used to.”
Lynx looked at him startled. “You?”
Tiger smiled. “I don’t think it’s true anymore. But yeah, I’ve felt that before.”
“When did it stop?”
Tiger looked at him. “Not a long time ago.”
That made Lynx fall completely silent.
Then Tiger leaned back against the window and said, “Will you sing something for me once? I want to hear your voice.”
Lynx looked away and whispered. “Maybe.”
They talked more after that. Not always about anything deep and Tiger never pushed. He just listened. And when Lynx couldn’t talk anymore, he sat with him quietly.
Tiger also told stories that made him laugh again, about being a trouble maker as a little kid, the silly, reckless things he did as a teenager, the times he embarrassed himself in front of debt clients because he was too nice to actually be intimidating. He admitted he got distracted easily. Just like he had with Lynx’s mother at the café. Just like he did with Lynx sometimes.
Lynx caught himself starting to wait for him. For the sound of his voice in the morning. His laugh when one of the cats did something adorable. His swearing when he spilled the coffee again. His stories that made Lynx feel like he was still part of the world, still real, still here.
And then this day had come.
His half-brother had to show up, uninvited, claiming the café was rightfully his. As if everything Lynx had been building and everything he’d started to believe in again, was just a lie. Nobody wants him, not really. Not even Tiger. He’s probably tired of his moods too. And who would blame him.
So he ran. Letting the rain wash over him, he was hoping it would quiet the noise in his head and the ache in his chest. He wanted to disappear, but then-
“Lynx, wait.”
Lynx felt Tiger take his hand, stopping him. He looked back. Tiger was also drenched, his shirt sticking to his chest and his hair was dripping into his eyes.
“Where are you going?”
“Where I’m going doesn’t concern you. This has nothing to do with you. Just leave me alone.”
But Tiger didn’t let go. “It does have to do with me.”
Lynx yanked his hand free. “Why?”
His voice was full of pain. “You heard what he said. You heard everything. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me just because I’m-” He broke off, ashamed to even finish the sentence.
He turned to go, but Tiger caught up to him again.
“Lynx...” He tried again. “Don’t do this.”
He broke and the words poured out of him like they’d been waiting years to be spoken.
“ This place isn’t even mine. All the cats here hate me.” His voice cracked. “My mother loved someone else’s kid more than me. So tell me, why should I stay?” He shouted, the tears streamed down his face, mixing with the rain, his body was trembling.
“Because none of that is true.” Tiger said quietly. “Your mother loved you very much. You just didn’t know it.”
“You don’t know that.” Lynx snapped.
“I do. Your mother loved you. The cats here always tell me how your mother loved talking about you to them and how much she loved you, how proud she was, and how she missed you.”
Lynx blinked, the rain cold against his cheeks. “What are you talking about? How would you know that?”
Tiger hesitated. “It’s a long story. It has to do with your mother. And the café. And the cats. I’ll explain everything. Just come back with me. Please.”
He held out his hand.
Lynx stared at it. The rain blurred everything, but he could still see Tiger’s face.
“Do you think, someone like me...is worthy of being loved?”
Tiger stepped closer, his eyes were glassy with tears too. He took Lynx’s hand and nodded.
“Of course I do,” he said gently. “Even I love you.”
Lynx shook his head. “No...no, that’s not...”
“Love has always been around you Lynx. This whole time. Even when you couldn’t see it. But I kept loving you. More and more.” Tiger gently brushed Lynx’s soaked curls from his face, trying to wipe away his tears, but the rain kept replacing them.
Lynx looked into his eyes, then he collapsed into Tiger’s chest with a broken sound, clutching his drenched shirt, never wanting to let go of it. Tiger felt warm against him, too warm.
“I’ve got you,” Tiger whispered. “I’m here.”
Lynx buried his face in Tiger’s neck, letting himself breath and calm down, then he looked up.
“You really...love me?”
Tiger smiled. “Hopelessly, I’m afraid.”
Lynx chuckled but he was still crying.
“Are you sure?”
“I couldn't be more sure.” Tiger whispered and closed the distance between them, meeting Lynx’s lips with a gentle kiss, then he pulled back to see Lynx’s face, to make sure he’s okay.
But Lynx didn’t want to let go. Not now. So, he kissed him back, like he was starving for it. His hands twisted in Tiger’s shirt, pulling him closer, needing to feel all of him, every inch, all at once. Tiger slipped his hand into Lynx’s wet hair, his other pressing over his chest, right over where Lynx’s heart was, maybe he could feel it starting to beat again.
Lynx pulled back to find his eyes.
“I...I love you too,” he whispered. “I didn’t know how to name it before. But I think...I can feel it more clearly now.”
Tiger let out a breath that he’d been holding for a while, and he smiled. He pulled Lynx in again, holding him tightly against him.
Lynx felt like he belonged there.
He still wasn’t sure if he was ready to believe in everything again. But his heart was a little lighter, the weight of the day began to lift under Tiger’s warm arms. The rain kept falling heavily around them and it felt like it was washing everything else away. They were both shivering now.
“Let’s go back to the café,” Tiger said gently. “Please.”
When they reached the café, the cats were sitting on the windowsills, their eyes glowing in the dark, waiting for them.
Inside, the rain finally felt a little quieter, just gently tapping against the glass. They climbed the stairs in silence and paused in Lynx’s room, looking at each other.
Tiger reached for the hem of Lynx’s soaked shirt. “May I?” he asked softly. “You’re freezing.”
Lynx gave a slight nod. He lifted his arms, and Tiger carefully drew the soaked shirt over his head. His skin was damp and cold, and he shivered at Tiger’s touch.
Tiger knelt without a word, taking off Lynx’s socks, his trousers, slowly, giving Lynx the space to stop him, but he didn’t.
Instead, Lynx touched him back. His hands moved up and he pulled off Tiger’s damp shirt too. Then he brushed the wet hair from Tiger’s face. Tiger looked up at him. Lynx traced his finger over his brows, his nose, his chin, his lips, all while looking into his eyes.
His voice came out like a whisper. “You were the only thing I was looking forward to in my day, for a while.”
He continued. “But then, I started to want things again. You made me feel like I could do things again.”
Tiger took his hand and kissed it with his eyes closed. “You could. You always could. I just kept hoping you’d remember that.”
He opened his eyes again. “You know...the cats told me you’ve been singing again. When you think you’re alone.”
Lynx blushed. “How would they? Is this some kind of secret language I still don’t get?”
“Well...”
And then Tiger told him everything, how he’d been there when Lynx’s mother passed, how she used to talk to the cats, and when she died, she passed that strange gift on to him. How the cats had told him stories about her. How much she loved Lynx. How she never wanted to give the café to anyone else without giving her son a choice. She didn’t want to burden him. She just wanted him to be free.
“She wanted you to decide,” Tiger said quietly. “What your brother said wasn’t the truth. Or at least...not the whole of it.”
It was a lot to take in, too much for one night. Lynx wasn’t ready to understand it all yet. But he knew one thing: somehow, Tiger loved him, and he felt like he could open his heart to him too.
After they’d changed into dry clothes, they lay together in the bed, Lynx resting on Tiger’s chest while Tiger stroked slow circles into his curls, holding him close.
Then Lynx whispered, “I want to sing to you. Only you.”
Tiger kissed the top of his head. “Just for me?”
“Yes.” Lynx murmured.
“The cats are going to be jealous.”
Lynx smiled softly against him. “They’ve heard me enough apparently. Now...I want someone else to hear my voice.”
Tiger closed his eyes. “Then I’ll be listening, Lynx. Always.”