By: mickeymouseno1
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Meow.
Mickey scowls and rummages through his drawer for some earplugs. It's the fourth time this week he's had to resort to this just so he can get through the shitload of homework the professor had heaped on them. Why the fuck he needed to memorise the Simpson's rule and apply it to calculate the clearance of acetaminophen when he could just search it out was beyond him, but right now, Mickey's anger was directed at something else.
In particular, a fucking cat. That wouldn't stop meowing. And was in the room right next to his. In a college dorm where no pets were allowed.
Meow.
Mickey nearly roars with rage. He needs to get through this or he's not going to pass his exam tomorrow. Which could cost him his scholarship here. Which would send him packing back to Canaryville where his old man would forever taunt him on the failure he is.
And there's no way that's happening before hell freezes over, so Mickey's just about ready to go stab whichever fucker decided to bring a cat into their room. He storms out, stomps over to the door next to his, and takes out his pin. Whatever. He's had experience picking locks. The owner's probably not back yet. What they don't know what hurt them. Until he hears a muffled curse that sounds decidedly more human than feline. Fuck.
"No! Tabby, shush. You're gonna get me in trouble!"
Meow.
"Shush, Tabby!"
Screech!
Mickey's had it. He roars and pounds on the door (and swears under his breath at the pain in his fist. It's been too long).
"Fuck." The person inside is silent for a moment, as if hoping Mickey'll go away. Mickey pounds on the door again with more aggression. The person inside sighs. "See, Tabby? I told you to be quiet." There's some shuffling and the door finally opens after a minute.
Mickey musters up his best glare to shoot as the door opens to reveal the stupid cat owner... and nearly ends up staring with his jaw dropped like some teenage fangirl.
Fuck. The kid's cute.
Luckily, years of being well acquainted with the closet in the Southside has prepared him for these situations, so instead, Mickey shoves past the redhead and hones in on the bundle of fur on the guy's bed.
The guy swears and moves to block the doorway when Mickey picks up the screaming cat, carefully avoiding its claws.
"Come on, dude, what are you doing?" he asks.
Mickey bristles. "Ever heard of the no pets policy around here, ginger? You need an update on the English language, or I gotta beat it into you?"
The guy, for what it's worth, looks away in embarrassment. Mickey takes the chance to race past him, but fuck it, the kid's fast and already blocking his exit again.
"C'mon dude, let's talk about this," he looks straight at Mickey and the puppy dog eyes are too much. Mickey curses internally and steps back.
"Well, what the fuck is a cat doing here?"
The redhead sputters, "It's just a cat, Jesus. Calm down."
Mickey scowls. "Well, it's fucking annoying me. I can't get anything done with it yapping its head off."
Red puts his hands up. "Look, I found it a few days ago and I didn't want to take it to the pound, okay?"
"What the fuck ever, bitch, I need to get my work done."
