Lance gives him an unimpressed look that’s ruined by the obvious fact that he’s fighting a smile. “So, you haven’t gotten any better at naming animals, then.”

Robbie crosses his arms, but smiles. “I haven’t gotten any better at anything.” It comes out sounding a little more serious than he intended.

Lance’s smile twists, almost wistful. “No, you’re exactly the same,” he murmurs, and looks down at the cats. Three, who has the two white front paws, has dropped to the floor and is skimming his sides against Lance’s calves enticingly.

“Don’t fall for any of that,” Robbie advises. “He’ll bite you, too.”

Lance’s chuckle makes Robbie feel like a time traveler, because although his voice has changed, deepened, in concert with the taller, bigger body he’s developed since he was a half-wild teenager clambering across the creek every day, his laugh is still the same. A little high and a little breathy, like he’s surprised that he has the urge but couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

Uninhibited, is what it is; that’s a word that Robbie once would have used for so many aspects of Lance, but now he isn’t sure.

“Maybe I haven’t changed, but you have,” Robbie says, shooting for matter-of-fact and landing somewhere between simply fond and hopelessly fond, which earns him another quick smile before Lance goes back to watching the cats. Now, both Two and Three are at his feet, sniffing his shoes and circling. One’s head briefly appears from beneath the couch, her favorite hiding place. Her mirror-like eyes flash before she vanishes again.

Lance frowns, as though struck by a sudden thought, and then turns to Robbie, accusing. “Wait, did you sleep on this awful couch?” He looks around the room, presumably searching for that deluxe air mattress Robbie mentioned the night before.

“Well, yeah,” Robbie admits. “The air compressor for the air mattress is loud as hell, and I didn’t want to wake you up.” He rubs the small of his back with a grimace. “I’m regretting being so kind and thoughtful now, though, let me tell you.”

Two leaps back onto the arm of the couch, cocks her head, and meows in a very pathetic, plaintive way. Robbie watches Lance’s reason vanish in the face of her adorableness, the sucker. As he reaches out to pet her, Robbie, smirking to himself, reaches for another coffee cup.

“Ow!” Lance exclaims a second or two later, and Robbie looks over to find Lance disentangling himself not only from Two’s teeth, but the extended claws of both her front paws.

“Yeah, she’s the worst of the bunch,” Robbie says. “You can’t fall for her, no matter how cute she looks. Hey, hellcats, maybe it’s time for you to go outside and terrorize the local wildlife instead, huh?”

Two and Three trot over happily as he walks toward the door, and they’re followed a few moments later by One, who shoots out from beneath the couch and straight out the door after it’s opened. Robbie hastily pushes the door closed behind them. Even in that short time, a rush of air has penetrated the cozy sanctuary of the hayloft, and when he turns back, Lance is hugging himself with one arm and shivering, taking another slug of coffee.