I'm not sure when they worked it out, but my cats have an agreement. Fitz, the tubby tabby, owns me in the bedroom. He snuggles next to me if I'm reading in bed, grooms me, and insists on being scritched before I go to sleep.
Musetta the little tortie, owns me in the living room. She sits on my lap if I'm at the computer or on the sofa. She nap tests the afgans I knit, and, strangely, she has, so far, managed to stay off the keyboard