It was a quiet day at the Chateau, lying on your brother’s bed while you played with the little black cat your best friend, Kie, had found stuck in a bush, meowing and crying. She had simply shoved the kitten into your hands, saying you were the best fit to look after it. Being the acceptable person you were, you gladly took it in. You had dubbed it Mr Midnight, and he was your baby boy, in your words. Everyone seemed to adore the little guy, even your twin brother, John B, seemed to love him, despite being against keeping a cat at first. Except JJ. Of course he thought Mr Midnight was adorable, and JJ loved playing around with him, he kind of hated that he wasn’t getting all the attention from you that he usually got. But being the little sister figure of the Pogues you always were, despite being the same age as them, you didn’t really notice.

Curled up on John B’s bed, you were cooing and playing with Mr Midnight, giggling at him. The door creaked open, but not even that pulled you away from the dark furball, not even when JJ rested a hand on your thigh. John B huffed at the gesture, protectively trying to push JJ’s hand away, but the blond simply shot him a glare, and went back to admiring you. John B rolled his eyes.

“You like the cat a lot, don’t you Pickle?” John B mused, using his childhood nickname for you. You hummed, too enthralled in the little mewls Mr Midnight made. JJ sighed dreamily, laying down with you, hand around your waist. At this John B fake gagged, walking out and shutting the door.

“Please don’t fuck on my bed.” John B said sternly, making JJ snort.

“Yeah, yeah.” He murmured, watching you tickle the cat. JJ kissed you on the shoulder a few times, trying to get your attention.

“Baby?” He mumbled into your skin.