The base was small, suggesting it was a miniature tree.
Now that he thought about it—today was Christmas. The realization that it was December 25 hit him all over again. Time really flew.
Apparently, Bae Jung-yoon had no plans even on Christmas. Even for someone without a partner, most people usually went out on a day like this to meet family or friends and do something special.
Just as Go Hoon was marveling once more at Bae Jung-yoon’s hermit-like lifestyle, a warm gaze reached him.
“I bought this just because I wanted to show it to Kkongddeok-i.”
There wasn’t a hint of showboating in Bae Jung-yoon’s voice.
Before the place had been overtaken by cat toys and furniture, his home had been meticulously neat—almost like every edge and corner had been aligned with care.
But ever since Hoon came to live here, that picture-perfect order had steadily faded. Bae Jung-yoon, too, seemed to be adjusting to the changes, becoming more and more accustomed to this altered version of himself.
“Miyaaang.”
‘Who ever asked you to buy something like that?’
Go Hoon grumbled for no reason and averted his gaze.
Seeing this, Bae Jung-yoon smiled quietly, pulled everything out of the box, checked the manual, and began assembling the tiny tree.
While he was doing that, Hoon’s attention gradually drifted elsewhere.
At some point, Go Hoon found himself staring intently at an empty box with its flaps open. His eyes were glued to it, as if nailed in place. He wore a look of deep concentration, but in truth, a fierce tug-of-war between reason and instinct was raging in his head.
‘Stay calm, Go Hoon. You’re a human being with intellect, not some instinct-driven cat. That box is too small for you. Don’t be ridiculous.’
He tried to talk himself down, to regain control of his desires. But by the time he came to his senses, his dainty four paws were already crammed into the tiny box.
“Kkongddeok…”
Bae Jung-yoon, having just noticed, froze for a second before letting out a soft chuckle.
“It’s clearly too small for you, and yet you just had to go in there.”
His voice was slow and drowsy.
“Cats really are impossible to understand sometimes.”
‘Aren’t they? I can’t even understand myself.’
‘Why the hell do I act like this?’
A wave of existential dread washed over him for a moment, but that didn’t change the fact that the cramped little box was ridiculously cozy and satisfying.
“You like that more than what I prepared for you, don’t you?”
“Uuung.”
While wagging his tail gently and holding eye contact with Bae Jung-yoon, Go Hoon finally noticed the fully assembled tree.
Bae Jung-yoon followed his line of sight, catching on that Hoon was now interested in the tree. He plugged the cord into the socket and turned on the lights.
“What do you think? Isn’t it pretty, Kkongddeok?”
The flickering, twinkling lights on the tiny, charming tree captivated Go Hoon’s gaze. He stepped out of the box and slowly padded forward.
Stopping right in front of the tree, he sat upright, back straight. The tree stood about twice his height.
He reached out a paw and gently tapped one of the round ornaments. Suddenly, memories from the past flooded in.
Back at Yeongsol Orphanage, around this time of year, the director and the kids would decorate a big tree together.
The tree, nearly a decade old, was stained and worn in places, showing the passage of time—but in Hoon’s eyes, it had looked beautiful.
Every year when they gathered to decorate it, he’d feel excited and joyful, like a child experiencing Christmas for the very first time.
On Christmas morning, each child at the orphanage would receive a gift. It was usually just a few candies or snacks wrapped in pretty paper, but still.
“Kkongddeok.”
As he was digging through the old memories, a voice calling his name snapped him out of it.
When he turned his head, Bae Jung-yoon’s hand was already pulling him close. Seated between the man’s firm thighs, something was being wrapped around his neck, and a knot was being tied beneath his chin.
Go Hoon twisted his head back and forth, letting his body go limp. ‘What the hell is he putting on me now?’
He craned his neck as far back as he could, trying to identify the object, but he couldn’t see anything.
Only after the ribbon knot beneath his chin had been secured did Bae Jung-yoon finally take his hands off him.
Freed from his arms, Go Hoon immediately leapt up onto the table and checked his reflection in the dark TV screen.
What he was wearing was none other than a red Santa cape with an attached hood.
The hood had fluffy white fur trim, and at the pointed tip—like an elf’s cap—was a fuzzy white pom-pom.
‘Seriously? What the hell is this?’
Clearly displeased, he scrunched his face and raised a paw to take it off—only for his gaze to lock straight onto Bae Jung-yoon’s twinkling eyes, watching him in delight.
“Kkongddeok, don’t take it off. Just leave it on for a little bit, okay?”
Bae Jung-yoon, having quickly pulled out his phone, spoke in a pleading tone.
Go Hoon froze on the spot.
Those earnest eyes wavered his resolve.
“Be good, hmm? Just hold still for a second. Let me take a picture.”
The gentle, coaxing tone finally broke him. He lowered his paw with a sheepish expression, goal unachieved.
“So cute.”
As Bae Jung-yoon’s face lit up at the sight of him patiently holding still, Go Hoon let out a long sigh, utterly resigned.
‘Fine. Just for today.’
He figured he owed it to the effort Jung-yoon had put in—the guy had set up a Christmas tree just to show it to him. Even if it was just an excuse, Go Hoon decided to let him enjoy this ridiculous scene to his heart’s content, at least for today.
Click, click.
Dozens of shutter sounds rang out. Bae Jung-yoon stared at his phone screen, satisfaction blooming on his face.
“They all came out great.”
Apparently pleased with the photos, Bae Jung-yoon helped Hoon out of the costume himself.
“You wore the outfit so nicely, so of course you deserve a treat.”
At the soft murmur, Go Hoon’s ears perked up, and a hopeful look lit his eyes. He expected Jung-yoon to head toward the kitchen, but instead, the man reached for a box right beside him.
Hoon’s gaze naturally followed his large hand. Something inside the opened box caught his interest. He was sure he’d seen it somewhere before… Ah, yes. Someone had called that thing “Churu.”
“Kkongddeok, do you know what this is?”
Bae Jung-yoon tore open the Churu packet along the perforated line and cautiously held it out to him. The scent hit Go Hoon like a jolt—his nose twitched reflexively.
“Come on, try a bite.”
He gently shook the packet, releasing a stronger burst of that tempting smell.
Go Hoon squeezed his eyes shut. ‘No way. I might be used to cat life now, but this? This is just going too far.’
And yet… the smell was incredible. It probably wasn’t much more than mashed-up fish, but still.
Even though his pride took a hit, he couldn’t deny the mouthwatering aroma. His pink nose flared in surrender.
Eventually, Go Hoon walked over to Bae Jung-yoon like he was under a spell.
“There you go. Good boy.”
Testing the waters, he leaned in slowly, emboldened by the praise. ‘Just one taste. Just one tiny lick.’
He flicked his tongue out and sampled the thin, mushy paste that had oozed out the top.
His eyes went wide. He felt his pupils blow open in an instant.
Forgetting his “just one lick” rule, Hoon raised a paw to steady Jung-yoon’s hand and frantically started lapping at the Churu.
‘Holy hell. So this is why cats go nuts for this stuff.’
“Waung-aung.”
Excited little sounds slipped from his busy mouth.
And so, Go Hoon took yet another step away from human dignity today.
The troubling part? He didn’t even mind that much.
“You’re losing your mind over it.”
There was a quiet laugh in Jung-yoon’s voice.
When Go Hoon looked up, their eyes met—and the expression staring back at him was one you’d expect from a mother watching her child eat heartily.
Holding the packet firmly in both hands, Go Hoon continued licking every last bit… until a salty taste suddenly hit his tongue.
Startled, he flinched back.
Bae Jung-yoon let out a soft “haha” under his breath.
‘That asshole. He did that on purpose.’
While Go Hoon had been greedily licking away, Jung-yoon had sneakily slipped a finger into the mix.
“Nyaaang!”
Letting out a displeased cry, Go Hoon smacked away the man’s hand and backed off a few steps.
‘Even a dog doesn’t get messed with while it’s eating.’
He slapped the floor with his tail and furrowed his brow, staring him down to make his irritation known.
“Ohh, Kkongddeok. Are you really glaring at me right now? You mad at me, is that it?”
‘Damn right, I am.’
He glared openly, ears tilted back in a sharp “V.”
Go Hoon didn’t bother hiding his fury. He acted this brazenly only because he knew how it would end—Bae Jung-yoon always let him win in the end.
“Alright, alright. I won’t tease you anymore. Don’t be mad—come here.”
Just like always, Jung-yoon started coaxing him in that gentle, easygoing voice.
But Go Hoon didn’t let up. His gaze remained sharp.
Lately, he’d been feeling like he was being taken for granted. Maybe it was time to reestablish the hierarchy. He wasn’t about to be anyone’s pushover.
“Kkongddeok, you’re really not going to forgive me?”
Jung-yoon crawled over on his knees and reached out to poke him in the cheek with a finger.
“Hm? Bae Kkongddeok?”
Not only had he given him that ridiculous name—Kkongddeok—but he’d gone so far as to slap his own surname on it.
‘Bae Kkongddeok, my ass. Who the hell do you think you are, my dad?’
The Churu was gone. There was no longer any reason to entertain him.
Go Hoon spun around and strutted over to the scratcher.
He sat with his back turned, firmly planting his butt down, and began grooming himself like it was the most important thing in the world.
He dampened his foreleg with saliva and started wiping down his face. His tongue and paw moved with determined rhythm.
From behind, he heard Bae Jung-yoon chuckle under his breath.
“Well, look at that. Bae Kkongddeok is pretending he can’t hear me.”
Even so, Go Hoon stubbornly kept his ears shut.
As a last resort, Jung-yoon reached for a toy.
Jingle jingle—
At the familiar sound, his soft ears flicked instinctively.
A bell.
Without even meaning to, he whipped his head around, eyes scanning for the source.
His sharp, icy-blue eyes landed squarely on the prize: a cat wand adorned with a small silver bell and several purple feathers.
Jingle jingle—
The feathers darted like a live fish, the bell chiming temptingly again.
His body reacted before he could think.
Flattening his torso low to the ground, Go Hoon tracked the toy with sharp, jerky movements. His pupils contracted and dilated in sync with the target.
Once it was locked in his sights, his hips began to wiggle.
Then—BAM!—he launched.
The target soared into the air, and so did Go Hoon.
“Myaaaang—!”
Suspended midair, he flailed his front paws, reaching desperately for the dangling feathers.
Jung-yoon didn’t stop. He kept waving the wand with gusto, even moving his legs to keep up.
Caught up in the chase, Go Hoon forgot to pace himself—and SMACK! He slammed headfirst into the leg of the dining table.
The impact was so loud, it echoed like a firecracker.
