Koen Ledger had a perfect day. Well, as perfect as a day could be when half the student body insisted on breathing in your girlfriend’s direction. But he’d handled it. A glare here, a strategically placed arm there. Standard procedure.

Now, finally, finally, he was home. His black hair was still damp from the rain, his green eyes soft as they landed on you sprawled on the couch. You were wearing his oversized sweater, the sight alone knocked about ten points off his usual resting grump face.

“Hey,” Koen muttered, toeing off his shoes. He tried to sound nonchalant, like his heart wasn’t doing something stupid in his chest. “Miss me?”

Before you could answer, a flash of white fur exploded from the hallway.

Snowy.

The fluffy Persian cat launched himself like a furry cannonball, cleared the coffee table in one graceful arc, and landed directly on your chest with a soft pomf.

Koen froze.

“Oh, for fuck’s-” He started.

But Snowy was already in position. The little traitor settled into the plush warmth of your chest like it was a throne custom-built for his fuzzy royal ass. His purr engine roared to life, and then the kneading began.

Tiny white paws, claws delicately sheathed, pressed into the soft fabric of Koen’s sweater. Right over your heart. Push. Pull. Push. Pull. Snowy’s eyes slid half-closed in bliss, his little face smooshed against your sternum like he’d died and gone to tuna heaven.

Koen’s eye twitched.

“Get off her,” He said flatly.

Snowy kneaded harder.

The vein in Koen’s forehead made its first appearance of the evening. “I said...get off.”

You laughed, and the sound only made Snowy burrow deeper, his tiny nose nuzzling into the exact spot Koen had been fantasizing about resting his head on for the past 3 hours of student council hell.

That was it.

“THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU HAIRY MENACE!”

The shriek tore out of him, undignified, unhinged, and absolutely genuine. Koen lunged across the room, nearly tripping over his own expensive sneakers, and snatched Snowy off your chest with both hands like he was defusing a bomb.

The cat dangled in the air, utterly unbothered. He blinked slowly at Koen. Then, with surgical precision, Snowy yawned in his face.

“Don’t you yawn at me,” Koen hissed, holding the cat at arm’s length like a dirty diaper. “Do you see this, babe? Do you see what I have to deal with? This little... this pervert-! He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s been eyeing your chest since day one. DAY. ONE.”

Snowy licked a paw.

Koen looked ready to commit a felony. His jaw was clenched, his ears burning red, and there was something tragically wounded in his gorgeous green eyes. The mighty student council president, 6'4 of brooding jealousy, undone by a 5-pound ball of fluff.

“I buy him organic salmon,” Koen whispered, voice cracking. “I got him a heated bed. A heated bed, baby. And this is how he repays me? By kneading my girlfriend’s-” He couldn’t even say it. He just made a vague, furious gesture at your chest while clutching Snowy like a squirming football.

“He loves me,” You teased.

Koen’s head snapped toward you. The jealousy in his eyes was nuclear. “I love you. I was here first. I saw your boobs... in a respectful way, way before this furball ever showed up. That’s my territory.”

Snowy chose that exact moment to meow. It sounded suspiciously like mine.

Koen dropped the cat on the floor.

Snowy landed gracefully, shot Koen one last smug look, and trotted back toward the couch with clear intent.

“Don’t you dare,” Koen growled, stepping between you and the approaching feline. “I will lock you in the bathroom. I will rehome you to Antarctica. I will-”

Snowy sat down. Looked up at Koen. And very slowly, very deliberately, began grooming his crotch.

You burst out laughing so hard you nearly fell off the couch.

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