Page 9 of All Packed Up

No.

He didn’t need to overstep his boundaries. Nic would simply ask her what she needed when she woke up. If she didn’t have it, he would offer to make a trip for her.

For now, one step at a time. And the next step at the moment was... breakfast.

Even for someone who had never really mastered the kitchen, Nic could manage. He managed to fry some bacon and put some canned biscuits in the oven to cook.

And now... he waited.

An unfamiliar sound echoed through the apartment, and Nic tensed. At first, he didn’t recognize it. Almost a vibration, it sailed through the room. Following it, he rounded the kitchen bar and walked back into the living room. It was closer here, and he paused to listen again.

By the fourth time it sounded, he finally realized what it was and gazed in the direction of Wendy’s room.

Did he let the cat out and risk making her angry?

No. No, he would just... let him meow until it woke her up?

That worked as well as any alarm clock, he supposed.

Nic once again retreated. He wasn’t ready to face an angry omega jolted from sleep by the dramatic cry of her fur child. He chuckled quietly to himself and opened the oven to check the biscuits.

And... cursed.

“Shit!” he hissed and pulled the slightly blackened bread from the hot oven.

With his hands on his hips, he stared at the bread, disappointed.

Even though it was just the tops and the bottoms of the biscuits that were burned, the bottoms wouldn’t even come off the stupid pan.

He knew because he tried to push a spatula beneath the crust, and it simply... wouldn’t move. It refused. It planted a flag and took ownership of the metal.

Nic huffed and pulled out his phone. Ordering breakfast was better anyway. It would most certainly probably taste better. He eyed the burnt biscuits with disdain.

A soft little mew echoed around the kitchen, and he jumped.

Glancing down, he found none other than the infamous Knuckles.

He was almost ugly, but had just enough cuteness that he was adorable. He was clearly a rescue, with a few scars around the ears and on top of his head, but otherwise he seemed happy. His coloring was kinda cute. All black except the little white stripe across each paw, similar to brass knuckles.

But he was healthy, if the large belly that swayed back and forth as he walked around Nic indicated anything.

“Hey, big guy,” Nic cooed, and leaned down to scoop the cat up. He was probably fifteen pounds of chunk, and he huffed under the weight.

“Your mom carried you around town all night like this?”

The cat purred and nudged at his shadow-covered chin with his little furry head.

“I could just put you at the gym in place of the weights. We can all take turns lifting you.”

“It’s from all the treats he gets,” a soft voice spoke from absolutely nowhere, before Wendy showed herself, sneaking around the corner on silent bare feet.

Nic turned and dropped Knuckles, who was squirming at the sound of his mom’s voice.

The cat trotted right up to Wendy and mewed at her, pawing at her calf.

“Someone wants your attention,” he pointed out.

“He thinks he’s starving,” she explained. “He’ll be fine. Do you have a bowl of water, maybe?”