Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mark Tuan is your typical, run-of-the-mill, average twenty five year old young man. Aside from the fact that he worked as a model – courtesy of his aunt, who saw his potentially good-looks pre-make over – his life’s actually pretty boring.

He disliked over-socializing, keeping out of hang-outs he knows will end up in noisy, rowdy clubs. He wasn’t too good for them – he’s been to his fair share of clubs and has found a few he liked, a few that managed to stay classy and relatively organized despite the loud music and body-grinding on the dance floor.

Mark spends his free time either maintaining his body in the gym, playing games on his computer, or outdoors if he’s feeling up to it, getting himself some exercise in the form of sports, both regular and extreme ones.

For human interaction and socializing purposes, he has a handful of close friends, both inside and outside of work, and that really is it. For this modeling career he had to move from Arcadia, Calfornia to Seoul, Korea – where his aunt’s company is located– and despite feeling lonely at times, he’s been doing perfectly fine on his own for the past 9 years.

That being said, though, Mark is still human.

Walking down the dark streets of Seoul on his own, the Taiwanese American took a left turn, taking in the cool autumn air caressing his face. It was fairly late, late enough that he’s the only person walking in this current street. The dimly-lit houses by the sides of the road looked cozy, quiet, and Mark wondered what kind of lives the people inside were living in.

Were they a happy, normal family, one that resembled The American Dream? Were they a gay couple, hiding in the warm and safe confines of their houses? Were they an old couple, being taken care of by a caring child or grandchild? Or is it just an elderly person living by themselves, with a pet – or multiple pets – as their companion?

So many possibilities.

A shrill whimper shook Mark out of his daydream (night dream?) as he spotted that familiar old house – with that same dog hybrid curled up on its porch – in the distance. The dog hybrid, a Chinese Siberian Husky, was already standing in front of the house and waving wildly at him, his ears perked and tail wagging happily.

Mark’s smile bloomed.

He always loved dogs, and it didn’t help that Jackson had a beautiful personality – aside from his basic dog traits, of course. The fact that they were both foreigners in Korea also helped their friendship, even though Mark was pretty formal and distant at first. Jackson spoke fluent English, often helping Mark out when things got lost in translation; whilst Mark’s rusty, basic Mandarin was something Jackson appreciated deeply in times of severe homesickness.

He guesses that he should be grateful about Jackson’s persistence in befriending him, all those years ago.

“Hi Mark! Where have you been? It’s pretty late,” the Husky greeted as he approached, smiling widely and happily, as if life hasn’t been cruel to him his whole life. Mark always thought that Jackson had a strong soul, and he actually admired the younger for it. He knew enough about the younger man’s life to never ask questions, but he also didn’t know enough to be able to take any action.

“Work. Just arrived home from Singapore, but I wanted to take the train home,” he explained, promptly swinging his backpack to the front and rummaging inside it to locate some food. He remembered having picked up some sausages and banana milk from GS25 earlier, and he wanted to give it to Jackson.

“You took the train all the way from Singapore?” Jackson frowned, tilting his head to the side, “Or did you mean that you took the train from the airport?”

“My manager dropped me off at the nearest train station, yes,” he affirmed, pulling out the distinct convenience store plastic bag from his bag and shoving it in Jackson’s arms. The dog hybrid sniffed at the bag’s contents and immediately looked conflicted.

“Ah, no,” he started, trying to hand the plastic back to Mark, “You bought this for you. You have to eat, you’re skinny! I’m okay!”

“Jacks, you and I both know you need this more than I do.”

“I have money for food, you know!” he insisted, and Mark knew that he technically wasn’t lying. But still, Jackson’s money can be allocated for way more important things if he’d just accept the food Mark is giving him. It’s not as if this is the first time, anyway, and Mark’s pretty sure he’s not the only one; he’s just the most frequent giver.

Albeit having a job, a home and staying with family, Jackson was seen alone so often that everyone in the neighborhood has already pegged Jackson as the “stray hybrid”. His bubbly, cheerful personality made people warm up to him quick, and all the kind souls that knew him liked to give him food, simply because of how nice he is.

Mark just gave him a pointed look.

“Jackson, take it. I bought it for you, anyway.”

The Husky hybrid hesitated.

The reluctance was so clear on his face; it obviously was a blow to his pride, having to accept food from people in the neighborhood.

Even more embarrassing was probably the amount of times Mark deliberately bought him food or had taken him out to eat. It wasn’t that Mark pitied him, or considered him some kind of charity work; Mark just loved to eat and being the typical Asian that he is, can’t really figure out another outdoor hangout activity besides going to the movies or having dinner together.

Maybe it’s also the fact that Jackson looks happier being away from the house – Mark suspects there’s something going on, really, the hybrid works two jobs but somehow always seems to be short on money – and in front of a plate of food. And no, he has no feelings for the Chinese Husky, he just likes helping others and seeing other people happy.

“Jiaer, qing jieshou,” he pleaded in Mandarin, "Please just take it," knowing how the sound of the hybrid’s native language would affect him, and smiled a bit as he could visibly see him give up. The Hybrid’s shoulder sagged and his whole body relaxed, his huge ears perking up, a gentle smile on his face as he took back the plastic bag.

“Xiexie, ge,” he responded, hugging it to his chest.

“Your family not home yet?” Mark asked, gesturing vaguely towards the house behind him, and Jackson shrugged, like he always does every time.

“Obviously. No idea when they’ll be back. I’ll be fine tho, I’ve got these!” he raised the plastic bag to emphasize his words, the grin back on his face. It was an obvious attempt at a subject change, and Mark decided not to say anything, settling for a nod. Jackson also seemed to be pleased with the answer, and playfully pushed Mark’s shoulder.

“Anyways, you should go home, Markeu, it’s getting cold! I wanna get back to my room, too.”

His room being the tree house in the backyard of the old house – Mark knew, he has seen it in all its dilapidated glory – but again, the human chose not to say anything about it. He trusted that Jackson will come to him if things get really dire – like all the previous times that he did – and has decided to just wait.

It wasn’t Mark’s place to speak up on Jackson’s family problems, despite being painfully aware of all the neglect happening in the Wang-Li household. Jackson is an adult, a fully grown twenty-four year old that can make his own decisions. The hybrid rights laws in South Korea has changed considerably since 1989 – Jackson working as both a fencing and language tutor was definitive proof.

It’s his choice to stay with his abusive family, and Mark could only extend an invitation to come over if things ever got too rough. Jackson taking him up on it for a handful of times is enough reassurance for the model.

Mark straightened up and shoved his hands in his coat pocket.

“I’ll be going then. See you, Jackson.”

And with a small smile and a curt wave, he left.

Chapter Text

Remember how Mark only has a handful of friends?

Now, this wasn’t really because he didn’t like making friends, or anything.

For one, his Korean was pretty shitty back in the day, and it didn’t help that he’s also a bit of a shy bean, an introverted one at that. This simply meant that he never really went out of his way to befriend someone; he just left it all up to chance. Natural selection did its work for him, leaving him with a bunch of handfuls which he all loved dearly.

However, no matter how much you loved someone, there were times you just really questioned your life choices.

“Please hyung!”

“He’s really sweet hyung, I swear.”

Mark pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Before him stood Kim Yugyeom, 20 years old, part-time model and full-time dancer, a dongsaeng he considered like his own little brother, despite being a whole head taller than himself. This guy is looking up at him from his couch with his hands pressed together, begging.

Beside Yugyeom sat his best friend, Jeon Jeongguk, also 20 years old, a fellow dancer, holding hands with a dog hybrid that looked way too handsome to be half-human.

God, he’s going to be late for the shoot today, isn’t he?

“Why did you adopt him in the first place?” Mark sighed, sitting down on the couch opposite of them. “I mean, no offense, Taehyung,” he nodded to the hybrid before turning back to Jeongguk, “If you knew that Jin hyung wouldn’t let you get more than one hybrid, why did you – ”

“Jimin refused to leave without him, hyung! They’ve been together in that same hybrid shelter since they were kids, and he refused to leave him alone in there,” Jeongguk insisted.

“If he stayed with me, they’d be separated anyway.”

“But at least he’d be out of the system, hyung. He’d have more freedom, more protection…” Jeongguk trailed off.

“Jimin didn’t want to leave his brother in the system while he himself could get the security they both needed. You know how it is, hyung,” it was Yugyeom speaking this time, knowing that Mark knew what he was hinting at.

Despite the laws being way more reasonable than it had been, orphaned hybrids stuck in the system that had no-one to vouch for them would be the first to be used in hard labor, not really leaving them much chance at living a real life. They could work, but options were limited. They weren’t allowed to rent or purchase homes, either, forced to live in the shelters provided for them. They were also the firsts to be up for enlisting, especially those with predator genes.

Jimin and Taehyung probably used each other as support throughout the years, turning their friendship into some kind of brotherhood, and Mark supposes he understands.

He sighed.

“What about the papers? Will he still be under your name, or?”

“Yes!” Jeongguk piped up, “Yes, you have nothing to worry about, I’ll take full responsibility for his healthcare and everything! All you have to do is take him in!”

The young man’s face lit up at the prospect of a positive outcome, and Mark felt a bit guilty about not being able to give him the answer he so desperately needed to hear. As if reading his mind, Yugyeom reached over and placed a hand on Mark’s hand.

“Hyung, you do kinda need a housemate. Remember what Jinyoung hyung said?”

Of course, how could he forget.

Jinyoung, self-proclaimed mom of their friend group, had always nagged him about the lack of life in Mark’s apartment. Although organized, his place is still a mess – if not for Jinyoung and Jae making regular trips to his place to crash – and lacked signs of life since he barely used it except to sleep and shower. Mark even preferred to eat outside; his fridge is barren except for some sweets and some beer.

Mark sighed again.

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, eyes now taking in Taehyung who had been sitting still – and kind of squeezing Jeongguk’s hand in obvious nervousness – this whole time. He looked like a kid who had just been scolded, and Mark couldn’t really blame him. It must feel weird to have people talking about him like he isn’t there.

“Taehyung, do you want to stay with me?” he asked, and watched the younger man for a reaction.

The hybrid’s big, white fluffy ears seemed to fold in more, pressed to the top of his head, and Mark’s soft spot is touched. He has always been a sucker for dogs. Seeing Taehyung all scared like that just made him want to reach over and hug him.

Sigh.

This must be the reason why these boys are here. Yugyeom knew of his fondness for dogs in general, Jeongguk needed someone to shelter his dog hybrid, and ta-da, who else better than Mark, a dog lover. The Taiwanese American can’t help but feel a bit used. His eyes darted back to the clock on the wall and fuck he really has to go now because the trip to the shooting location will take him two hours and –

Taehyung’s deep, deep voice then spoke up, and Mark hopes his surprise didn’t show on his voice, because wow the hybrid’s deep baritone voice did not match his flower boy looks and demeanor at all.

“I… I don’t mind, I guess…” he mumbled out, wringing Jeongguk’s hands and looking at the floor. Despite his words, Mark could see how scared Taehyung looked, and Mark shook his head. It was a look that all dogs sported when they weren’t sure what to do and didn’t want to get scolded.

Mark’s head immediately thought of Jackson down the street, but he pushed that thought away.

“Look, Guk, Yug, I’ll think about it. We don’t know each other well enough, and I’m comfy living on my own. Even if I agree on this, we’ll have to at least get to know each other first.” He offered Taehyung a smile he hoped seemed comforting, and turned back to his two dongsaengs.

“Look for other options, you two.” he stated, getting up to his feet. “Now I really have to go, I’ll be late to set.”

Giving the boys one last nod, Mark took his phone and keys from the coffee table, shoving it into his pockets. Duffel bag in hand, he made his way over to the door to take his coat and shove his feet into his shoes.

“Lock the doors when you leave, Yug.”

“Gotcha hyung.”

“Thanks Mark hyung!”

The door closed with a click, and Mark is gone.

Chapter Text

“That last raid was a flop,” Jaehyung complained as he sat on by the doorway, putting on his shoes and tying the laces.

The two of them have just spent the whole of last night playing one game after another, before finally settling down on some good old-fashioned grinding and raiding. They didn’t play alone, of course, accidentally meeting some of their friends in each game they played.

In the end, the two fell asleep after breakfast at six am in the morning, and stayed passed out in Mark’s living room until nearly three pm in the afternoon.

Mark and Jae’s friendship actually bloomed thanks to Jinyoung, who dragged him to “come and meet the band” at a socialite party because the main vocalist happened to be his close friend. Mark and Jae then found out that they had a lot in common, and everything just spiraled from there. The fact that Jae came from Long Beach, CA just strengthened the bond between the two Cali boys.

“Hayoung-ie saved your ass though,” Mark offered with a grin as Jae stood up, to which the older just laughed.

“Dude, I know I’m bad, you don’t have to rub it in.”

Jae reached for the door handle and walked out. “I’ll be dead when I reach home, so don’t bother calling. Adios, amigo!”

And with that, Jae closed the door behind him, and Mark made his way to the kitchen, deciding that Poptarts for lunch sounded like a great idea. He’s feeling way too lazy to cook anything, and he won’t gain weight, anyway.

Yawning, still dressed in just his baggy sweats, Mark got out his box of Poptarts and was about to pop them in the toaster oven when his doorbell rang, followed by a series of knocks on the door. Sighing, Mark turned on the toaster and walked over to see who it is. He knows that it’s most likely Jae, probably having forgotten his phone charger in Mark’s room, or a shirt in the bathroom. It wasn’t he first time it happened, and the Taiwanese-American is pretty sure it’ll never be the last.

Mark opened the door.

“What did you – ”

This is not Jaehyung.

Instead, here stood Jackson Wang, the Husky hybrid from down the street. Mark blinked owlishly for a second before Jackson’s awkward shuffle kicked his brain back into gear.

Fuck, he wasn’t wearing a shirt.

The older immediately stepped aside and ushered him in, closing the door behind him as the hybrid toed off his shoes. Unlike the previous handfuls of time that Jackson has come by to hang out – or to have one of the very rare sleepovers – the hybrid came this time with two duffel bags in tow, one in each hand.

Mark’s eyes obviously widened at the sight, slightly confused. He decided that getting a shirt is first priority, though, and ran to his room to put on a random tee draped over his computer chair.

When he got back to the living room, the Husky hybrid had already put his two duffel bags on the floor.

Jackson’s just standing there, wringing his hands like a child caught past curfew, ears drooped and tail wrapped securely around a thigh. He looked like a kicked puppy, and Mark suddenly felt a huge urge to walk over and hug him and tell him that everything is going to be okay and that cancer will be cured tomorrow. It’s amazing how someone as buff and tall as Jackson could seem so small when put in a situation like this.

“Jacks?”

The hybrid jumped at the mention of his name, and Mark noticed the younger’s eyes flitting down to his now-covered chest, before meeting his eyes.

“Hyung, could I.. stay here for a few days?” Jackson requested, looking more nervous than ever, and Mark could tell how hard it must be for the hybrid to look at Mark straight on. He seemed nearly embarrassed, too, and instead of answering, the Taiwanese American decided to walk to the kitchen and get his Poptarts. The living room and kitchen is only separated by a breakfast counter, anyways.

“Sure. How long do you think you’ll be staying for?” he asked, placing the Poptarts on a plate, arranging the three flavors and pushing it to Jackson’s general direction.

“Uh, two days, I guess… Maybe three,” Jackson answered, hesitantly approaching the breakfast counter and sitting by it, staring at the plate of Poptarts. Mark handed him a packet of cold unopened ones, and the younger took it.

“Would you tell me the real reason if I asked?”

Jackson stayed silent, looking down at his unopened Poptart, and Mark deemed it enough as an answer. Reaching out, he ruffled Jackson’s head, messing up the dark brown locks, before scratching behind Jackson’s ear. The hybrid looked up, and Mark could see nothing more but a lost child in front of him. He is immediately reminded of Joey, his little brother back at home, and briefly wonders how he’s doing.

“You want your Poptarts cold or toasted?” he asked instead, a simple smile on his lips, and Jackson smiled back.

-o-

Mark closed the door behind him, nearly tripping over his suitcase as he tried toeing his shoes off. He managed to get the job done somehow, pulling his luggage to the living room and prepared to just fall asleep on the couch and maybe wake up sometime after next week.

Seoul Fashion Week was horribly exhausting, and he’s just lucky that his photo shoot gig happened before the catwalk. He’s pretty sure he’d be looking dead otherwise, and nobody wants to look dead for a makeup ad shoot. Leaving his suitcase in the middle of the house, Mark prepared himself to faceplant and crash into the sofa, when the guest bedroom door suddenly clicked open.

Jackson slipped out of the room, dressed in sweats and a tanktop, face bleary and sleepy and tired. It took him one whole second, and Mark suddenly remembers about the housemate he had acquired three days ago and briefly wonders whether he’d been too loud in his entrance.

“Gege? Did you just arrive?” Jackson asked, his Mandarin slurred due to his sleepiness, and it took Mark’s brain a few seconds to register and formulate a reply. Due to his overloaded brain, he replied in Korean.

“Yeah, jus’ got back. Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Not really,” Jackson admitted, walking past Mark to the kitchen and heading for the fridge, “Was waiting up for you. You said you’ll be home in two days, and that’s today, so,” the young man shrugged, taking out a container and shuffling towards the microwave.

Mark just stared.

To be honest, it did kind of feel a bit weird to have someone greeting you into your own home, especially after having lived for so long on his own. However, Mark, although tired and sleepy, felt like he had to be a good host, so he hoisted himself up and dragged his feet to the breakfast counter anyway.

“Did you eat, hyung?” Jackson asked, now having switched smoothly to Korean, and Mark wonders how long it would take before the two of them would go from switching languages to outright mixing them in one sentence. Also, has Jackson’s tail always looked so bushy and fluffy?

“Hyung.”

Jackson’s voice cut through his train of thoughts, and Mark snapped his head up. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I did, but eating again doesn’t sound bad…”

They both fell quiet once again, the silence between them filled only with the sound of Jackson heating up whatever’s in the container – it smelled a lot like bolognese sauce – and Mark tapping his fingers rhythmically on the counter top. The silence didn’t really feel awkward, for some reason, and Mark is again wondering why Jackson seemed so familiar with his kitchen. He only stayed over a handful of times, and he’s only been here for two consecutive days – but Jackson did seem like a smart guy, he probably figured it out on day one.

He probably figured Mark out after the first time he came over to hang out. It wasn’t as if Mark’s a really hard guy to decipher. He has his secrets and peeves, but once you get past his cold exterior, it’s pretty easy to read through Mark’s habits. At least, that’s what Mark likes to believe about himself.

A plate appeared in his line of vision with a dull thud, and Mark looked up – when did he look down? – to see Jackson smiling at him.

“I promise I didn’t raid your fridge,” he stated, and Mark found it a very odd way to start a conversation, “Hope you like my bolognaise beef spaghetti.”

-o-

It’s been exactly two hours since Jackson had gone home, and Mark found himself missing the other’s presence already. If he could be honest, it’s more about the comforting feeling of knowing that you’re not alone, than about missing the person, Jackson, himself.

He walked over to the fridge, grabbing a carton of cold chocolate milk, and leaned on the counter, listening to his surroundings.

Silence.

“Aish – ”

Maybe Jinyoung’s right. Maybe he does need company.

Sighing, Mark grabbed his phone from the coffee table and dialed Yugyeom’s number.

Chapter Text

Kim Taehyung is a very cute person, Mark realized. The hybrid is literally that, a hybrid, because there’s no other word for him than “dog personified”.

According to his papers, Taehyung’s supposed to be a legal adult, sure. But the way he just sat there, fidgeting on Mark’s couch the second Jimin left with Jeongguk and Yugyeom, his one suitcase and duffel bag still sitting by his feet made him look like an overgrown child, a lost teenager, and Mark is, again, immediately reminded of Joey back home.

This felt awkward, honestly. It hasn’t even been five minutes since the three merry young adults have left his apartment, and yet, Mark felt like it’s been hours already.

Jimin had refused to leave at first, insisting to stay for a day or four – a week, he implied – and help Taehyung get used to his new surroundings, and honestly, Mark didn’t really mind. He had a schedule coming up in two days anyways and he’d be required to stay in Paris for at least three days.

He didn’t really know what kind of internal conversation went down in between the three of them – Yugyeom excluded, because he’s busy helping Mark with the laundry – but the bird hybrid is suddenly quieter when he returned with the sheets and didn’t protest when Jeongguk announced that they were all going to go home.

They have just left but Mark felt awkward already, standing in the middle of the living room with clean sheets in his arms, the Samoyed hybrid fidgeting on Mark’s sofa. He’s shit at starting conversation, he’s even more shit at being warm and comforting, but the tall Taiwanese-American knew that he’s the one that has to make first move, this time.

Sigh.

He has to man up. This is his house, and he’s the one who took up Jeongguk’s offer, anyway. He’s the one who called the younger and decided to accept Taehyung into his house and damn it accept the young hybrid he will.

He will make Taehyung feel at home.

If only he knew how.

Taking a breath, Mark clutched the heap of sheets a bit closer his chesr and cleared his throat, alerting the younger of his presence. Surprising the hybrid by making any sudden moves is the last thing he wanted to do. He could see Taehyung’s huge white ears twitch at the sound, and Mark took it as his cue to move, making his way over and sat down on the sofa opposite of Taehyung’s.

Wow his tail is so fluffy…

“Hey, so, uh,” Mark started, trying his best to ignore his restricting chest, “You’re feeling okay?”

Damn it, Tuan, that’s even worse that a cheesy pick-up line.

Luckily for Mark, though, Taehyung’s feeling just as awkward, and it kind of showed by the way his fluffy tail moved to wrap tighter around his leg. The younger’s dark-brown eyes glanced around, seemingly scanning the room for the first time, and the hybrid settled for a shrug.

“It’s good,” he said softly, still sounding a bit hesitant, and Mark could almost feel his own social anxiety kick in. He didn’t exactly have real anxiety, but his nervousness could almost fool anyone thinking he does. Taehyung’s lack-luster response was to be expected of course, but it still felt like a punch to the gut, as if it served as a reminder on how much of a shitty conversationalist Mark is.

‘It… It kind of, reeks...” Taehyung spoke up again softly – how such a deep voice can sound so soft and meek Mark will never know – and the older frowned. Reeks? Did his house smell? Did Taehyung’s hybrid nose pick up some foul odor Mark’s human nose didn’t?

The model’s brain immediately thought back on all the clean-up duties he might’ve possibly forgot to do. He took out the trash two days ago, and it’s all mostly dry waste. He did the laundry – he squeezed the fresh sheets closer to his chest – and he also cleaned out the bathrooms in the house. What could--

Taehyung’s voice broke off Mark’s train of though.

“Ah, hyung, I’m sorry, I meant it, like...” the hybrid frowned a bit to himself, “It smells like another dog in here.” The younger’s eyes shyly met Mark’s, and the Taiwanese-American suddenly felt an urge to reach out and squish Taehyung’s face to mush. “ Do you have a pet or something?”

“A pet?” the model repeated, and he frowned. The only pet he ever had was Coco, a small white Maltese dog, but Youngjae had taken him in ever since Mark’s modeling schedule required him to leave his house for days on end. The last time Youngjae and Coco visited was also months ago, and –

“Yeah, like, a pet Husky?”

Oh.

“Oh, no, I don’t have a pet. I had a hybrid friend crash here for a few days. You can still smell him? He went home two days ago.”

Mark could see Taehyung’s ears twitch up in interest at the word “sleepover” and held back a small smile. The model knew how uncommon it was for hybrids to have so much freedom to the extent of having sleepovers – let alone find a human who’d actually befriend a hybrid and let them “sleep over for a few days. Maybe that small piece of information might help show Taehyung how chill Mark is about the human-hybrid hierarchy.

“Ah, I see...”

“… Yeah.”

The conversation stopped there, and Mark suddenly felt at a loss once again. He clutched the sheets closer to himself, realizing that he had those in his arms for a reason, and stood up, shaking Taehyung out of his thoughts.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room. It’s right next to mine.”

The blonde model waited until Taehyung has a hold of both his luggage, watching the hybrid closely in case he needed any help. Mark doesn’t really have the courage to help unless the other needed it, knowing how most canines are possessive and territorial about their belongings, but he still will offer if it seemed that Taehyung needed it.

When the Samoyed hybrid seemed ready, Mark turned and led the way to the guest bedroom. Halfway, though, Taehyung spoke up.

“Uh, hyung?”

“Yes?”

“About your hybrid friend…”

“… yes?” Why did Taehyung’s hesitant tone made Mark feel uncertain as well?

“He didn’t sleep in the room that’s gonna be mine, right?”

Mark halted in his steps at the question, inwardly facepalming himself. How could he have not thought of that?! Regular dogs were territorial already, let alone a hybrid who has spent time in the system! Hybrid senses were sensitive and making Taehyung feel unwelcomed by making him use a used room is the last thing Mark wanted.

Problem is, he doesn’t even remember which room Jackson used because he has just let the Hybrid choose for himself.

Aish.

“Uh, well, I forgot, to be honest,” he admitted, stopping in front of the guest bed room door, “This one isn’t the only room, though, there’s another one down the hall, so if you dislike this one we could just move to the other one?”

“Can… Can I sniff out the room first, then…?” came the timid request accompanied with a shy shuffle of the hybrid’s feet, and Mark tightened his hold on to the sheets in his arms. He never thought he’d find someone even more cuter than Jackson, but, well, the universe has just proved him wrong.

Mark opened the door to the guest bedroom and stepped aside. “Go ahead.”

The model watched as Taehyung tentatively approached the doorway, taking cautious steps inside the room. The Samoyed hybrid’s nose twitched cutely, his tail less tense and ears on high alert. Mark couldn’t help but observe the younger one’s physique, now finally noticing how he’s actually shorter than the hybrid by a whole inch.

“He wasn’t in here,” Taehyung exclaimed, his tail wigging slightly as he dragged his luggage inside the room, and Mark took as a good sign. He followed Taehyung inside, placing the sheets by the end of the naked mattress as the hybrid went ahead and pressed on it, applying obvious pressure, probably gauging how comfortable – or not – the bed might feel.

“Would you like my help, or … ?” Mark gestured vaguely to the bed and the room in general, and Taehyung’s mouth twisted cutely. It really, truly, triggered a lot of Mark’s paternal instincts, and he had to clear his throat out loud just to suppress the urge to cuddle the hybrid to death. Wow, he suddenly misses his nieces.

“Ah no, hyung, thank you. I can do it myself,” Taehyung smiled, really genuinely smiled, seeming way more comfortable than he was before, and it brought a small smile upon Mark’s own lips.

Hopefully things will only get better from now on.

Chapter Text

Mark could feel Taehyung’s eyes on his as he walked around the apartment, dragging his three suitcases in to the living room one by one before walking back to his bedroom to scout the area for any important things he might have forgotten. Deeming his bedroom clear of any stray airpods, chargers, power banks or wallets, Mark closed the door to his room and pulled out his phone.

Half an hour to go.

Good. This means he can at least make Taehyung some breakfast and talk a bit before his manager comes to pick him up.

“Tae,” Mark called, spotting the hybrid’s huge white ears perk up from his peripheral vision, walking into the kitchen and heading straight for the fridge. “Bacon or sausages for breakfast?”

“You’re… cooking?” came Taehyung’s deep voice – Mark doesn’t know when he’ll ever get used to that flower boy face having a “daddy”-type voice, to be very very honest – sounding adorably confused, and once again the older Taiwanese-American’s thoughts ran to Jackson. He shook the thought away.

“You sound as if I haven’t been cooking for the both of us for the past three days,” Mark chuckled, taking out four cold eggs and a tupperware of cold, mashed potatoes. “Bacon or sausages, Tae?”

“Sausages,” came the answer, and the sound of the counter stool being pulled back told Mark that Taehyung is now probably sitting by the breakfast bar, his chin propped up on his palm like he always does when he watches Mark cook. The younger has never really volunteered to cook so far, his only attempt at making himself a part of the household is only by doing their dishes or sweeping the floor. He kept to himself, doing his own laundry and never touching anything that belonged to Mark, even under the excuse of cleaning up.

But then again it’s only been a week, and today will be Taehyung’s second time being left alone at home.

The tall model plated up the sausages, the warmed up mashed potatoes following soon after. He placed the plates on the counter in front of Taehyung, turning back to the stove to work on the scrambled eggs.

“Hyung?” Taehyung’s deep voice called, and Mark hummed as a reply. It seemed enough for the hybrid, as he continued his question, “How long will you be away this time?”

“A bit over a week. My schedule got added in at the last minute.”

“… Oh.”

Despite the single syllable, Mark somehow felt that the Samoyed hybrid’s reply is loaded, as if there’s something he wanted to say but decided not to. Mark knew what it was that the other probably wanted, though. The last time he had left for work, Taehyung had to spend two whole days alone at his apartment, apparently resulting into the younger having late phone calls with Jimin until just so he could sleep. He had received an earful of whining from both Yugyeom and Jeongguk – seeing as the two can’t really reprimand him, being younger and all – and promised that he would try to be more aware of Taehyung’s needs and emotions.

Turning off the stove and running his rubber spatula through the mass of yellow on the pan, Mark turned around and approached the younger, pushing the eggs off the pan and onto the plates.

“I’ll ask Jeongguk to bring Jimin for a sleepover,” Mark stated at he deposited the dirtied pan into the sink along with its other dirty dish-friends, sitting down by the counter, opposite of Taehyung. His words turned out to be the correct answer to the situation as he could see the hybrid’s big fluffy tail swish excitedly behind him, his huge ears perked up and alert.

Mark giggled.

Taehyung scrunched up his nose at the noise. “Whaaat?” he whined, seemingly offended by Mark’s giggle, and the model shrugged.

“You’re looking awfully cute,” he stated, handing Taehyung a fork and knife and acted as if he didn’t notice the hybrid’s embarrassed, flushed face, choosing to dig into his breakfast instead.

Breakfast proceeded quietly, but comfortably, and Mark finished his food rather quickly, dumping them into sink to wash them. Right as he rolled up both of his sleeves, though, a loud buzz reverberated through out the kitchen, and Mark’s priorities shifted. The model immediately turned and located his phone.

“Hyung, are you ready yet?” came his manager’s nasal-ish voice through the receiver, and Mark made his way to his packed bags, scanning everything over as the voice on the other end continued talking. “You need to pack some extra fancy clothes for hangouts because I have no idea if these guys will let you keep the clothes you model and I don’t know if Milan will be just chilly or very cold and – ”

“Han,” Mark cut in, “Han! Jeonghan, chill. I have everything, don’t worry.”

“… are you sure? You forgot your designer boots last time.”

Mark blinked at the reminder, and immediately opened one of the suitcases to find the boots inside its shoe box. He sighed in relief.

“I just checked. I have ‘em.”

“What about everything else?”

The sound of running water hitting the sink registered in Mark’s mind, and he turned around to find Taehyung washing the dishes. The boy stood there in knee-length basketball shorts and an over-sized t-shirt and it gave him the sense that Taehyung looked like a less-lankier version of Mark himself. He didn’t know where that thought came from, but the hybrid looked soft and adorable.

Jeonghan’s voice brought his attention back to the topic at hand.

“Mark hyung.”

“Yes, Jeonghan, I have everything. Where are you now?”

The call ended with Jeonghan relaying his location and telling Mark to be on standby, with the model shoving his phone into his jeans pocket. He got on his feet and turned to the kitchen, finding Taehyung leaning on the counter and staring at him in thought, arms crossed in front of his chest. The stare made Mark a bit uneasy, but he pushed the feeling aside and approached the hybrid.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching out slowly to pet Taehyung’s hair and scratch behind his ear. Ever since a week after he moved in, the younger has considerably warmed up to Mark and allowed him to touch and pet him as much as he liked. Taehyung has reassured the model that he will tell him if he didn’t like something, and so far, Mark hasn’t really invoked the young hybrid’s annoyance, so he took that as a good sign in their still-evolving relationship.

“Can I have a body pillow, hyung?”

The question seemed to come a bit out of nowhere, and Mark’s first instinct was to scrunch up his face in confusion.

“A body pillow?” he repeated, frowning and taking his hand back, “What for, Tae?”

The hybrid grinned sheepishly and Mark’s eyes caught the younger’s fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I don’t sleep very well on my own,” Taehyung admitted, “The past week has been okay because I can kind of hear you in the room next to me and it’s comforting, but…”

The hybrid looked down and Mark blinked, cogs turning in his head. He decided to ignore Taehyung’s off-handed confession about being able to hear Mark from the next room because … well, for obvious reasons. Anyway.

“So… You couldn’t sleep when I left you for Paris last time?”

“…. yeah.”

Well, damn.

Mark scratched the back of his not-so-itchy head and racked his brain for any spare body pillows. He could only recall two, one of his own and the other one in the spare bedroom Jackson used. There used to be one in Taehyung’s room, but Coco had torn it to shreds while playing tug-o-war with Gucci, and that was the last time Tzuyu ever left her dog unsupervised whenever she came over to Mark’s home.

Speaking of Tzuyu, he probably should talk to her soon.

Anyway, back to the matter at hand.

He doesn’t have any spare body pillows.

“Well, I only have two. One is in the spare bedroom my hybrid friend used, and the other is mine,” he explained, deciding to be honest, “Which one do you prefer?”

A few hours later, Mark is in his company’s van and on his way to the airport with his manager and head of security, looking out the window and smiling to himself as he recalled Taehyung hugging Mark’s used body pillow and seeing him out the door.

For once, Mark really looked forward to coming home.

Chapter Text

“Here you go, hyung,” Seungcheol huffed, dragging the extra two suitcases to a halt in front of Mark’s apartment door. It was a welcome surprise, although not really uncommon, for Mark two depart with just three suitcases but arrive back with five. It turned out that Jeonghan’s worries were just that, worries, since the brand gave away all the clothes Mark modeled on the runway and on the shoot that followed, along with the shoes and accessories.

He had to buy two additional suitcases, one for the clothes and accessories and one solely for the shoes. He has no idea what he’ll do with these because he has so many clothes at home already, but he figures he can ask Bambam’s help with weeding out these things. His friends might want these stuff, anyway, so it wont go to waste.

Seungcheol, his team manager, straightened up with a huff and pushed his hands in his pockets. Despite being a whole two years younger, Seungcheol is actually taller and way more buff than Mark himself, acting cool and tough and very precise when at work, but a complete child when around his friends and clingy when around Jeonghan. Mark suspected that there were feelings involved, but Seungcheol has always brushed it off.

“Thanks, Cheol-ah,” Mark sighed, turning the key to his apartment and unlocking the door, “Tell Joshua to be careful. Say bye to Jeonghan for me.”

“Will do, hyung. You get some rest, too, yeah?”

With a smile and a nod, Mark pushed the door open to step inside as Seungcheol walked off. They’ve known each other long enough; Seungcheol knows that Mark prefers to handle his stuff on his own, and Mark knows that the younger would get antsy if he left the others for too long, even if it’s just to help the model carry his luggage upstairs. Normally it’d be Jeonghan doing this, the long-haired man being Mark’s personal manager, but the poor guy had already fallen asleep in the car and nobody had the heart to wake him up.

Mark stepped in his home, using one of his suitcases to act as a doorstopper as he tried to haul in his four other suitcases in one by one. He has just succeeded into dragging the second suitcase into the living room, moving to go and get the third, when a figure made themselves visible in the corner of his eye.

Turning, the model saw Taehyung standing sleepily in the hallway, body pillow held close to his chest, as the hybrid yawned and took a few steps closer. The pillow casing was still the same as it was a week ago, meaning that te hybrid didn’t change it and probably needed his scent to calm down enough the sleep. The thought made a smile bloom on his face, and Mark held back the urge to coo and reached out to ruffle Taehyung’s hair instead. It felt a bit weird, seeing as the hybrid seemed so much taller than him due to his large, fluffy, white ears, but Mark dismissed the feeling and smiled.

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Taehyung replied blankly, putting the body pillow down on the sofa and moving to the front door, apparently intending to help Mark with his luggage. “I wasn’t really sleeping, but you sounded so busy, so I figured you needed some help.”

The response sounded a bit off and detached, a bit too dismissive than what Mark was used to from the sweet hybrid. But then again, it is 3 am in the morning; maybe Taehyung gets cranky when woken up at asscrack-o’clock? Mark sure knows he himself would be. He lets it slide, and watched as the hybrid pulled in the third and fourth suitcase inside the apartment with ease, leaving Mark to handle the last one and lock the door.

He pulled the last suitcase to join its brothers near the couch and is seriously considering to leave the unpacking for tomorrow – he’s got all his necessities in his duffel bag anyway, still secure around his one shoulder – when a faint, soft distressed noise reached his ears.

Mark immediately looked up and focused his attention on Taehyung, who seemed to be… fidgeting?

“Tae?”

His voice seemed to snap the Samoyed hybrid out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Are… you okay?”

“… yes.”

“Are you sure?”

A nod came as makeshift reply and Mark decided not to push any further. He trained his eyes back to the five suitcases, their presence as if mocking his entire lazy existence, and really decided to fuck it and leave it in the living room until tomorrow. He wants to sleep, damn it. Having made that decision, Mark raised his arms in a stretch, yawning a bit, and was about to extend a hand to Taehyung when the hybrid suddenly spoke up.

“Hyung, what’s your hybrid friend’s name?”

… well that’s an unusual question.

“Uh, his name is Jackson. Wang Jackson. Why?”

The next minute, Mark found himself running out of his apartment, forgoing the elevator and sprinting down the steps – he lived on the fourth floor anyway it wasn’t that much of an exercise – ignoring his labored breaths as he made his way out of the apartment complex and into the housing complex.

“A dog hybrid came over, asking for you.”

Mark nearly skidded and fell face-first on the pavement as he rounded a corner, pushing himself up before breaking into another sprint towards a familiar house down the street. He had never thought that something like this could happen, and doesn’t really know if there’s anything he could’ve possibly done to prevent it.

“He didn’t believe me when I said you weren’t home,” the younger mumbled, frowning to himself as he sat down on the couch arm rest, “He growled at me as if I were an intruder.”

Taehyung’s hurt, guilty face seeped into his thoughts and Mark felt bad, he really did. But he also felt a bit angry, mostly at himself, because he had promised Jackson that his home would always be available for him, and when the hybrid needed it the most, Mark wasn’t even there. Literally.

“I sent him away,” Taehyung admitted, “I didn’t know who he was, he growled at me, I felt threatened, and you weren’t home.” The hybrid was visibly defensive, arms wrapped around himself, but his face showed annoyance. Towards what, Mark doesn’t know. All he could think of was that Jackson had stopped by without prior notice. Jackson never stops by just like that.

Even though it was technically Taehyung that indirectly turned Jackson away – for reasons that made complete sense, honestly – the apartment was still his home. What would the Husky hybrid think of him now?

Jackson’s house slowly but surely came into view and the house was dark. The big tree in the back yard, the tree with Jackson’s tree house, was nowhere to be seen. Mark felt his legs slowly move to a halt, the muscle pain and exhaustion finally catching up to him, his breath heavy and labored. He doubled over, hands on his knees and he took a second to take a breather.

He needs to use the treadmill more often.

Straightening up, still panting like and trying to fight the constriction in his chest, Mark stood in front of the dark Wang-Li house. The familiar, dim-lit house still looked as eerily abandoned as usual, but the back yard looked especially dark today, illuminated only by the moonlight. It was quite unusual since Mark knew for a fact that Jackson was afraid of the dark and like to keep his room – aka the tree house – as well-lit as possible. this simply meant that Jackson wasn’t home.

But where would that hybrid be at ass-o’clock in the morning in this chilly weather?

One and a half hour later, Mark pushed open the door to his apartment to find Taehyung sitting in the hall, cradling the body pillow close to him, apparently waiting up for the model to come home. Mark froze in his steps for a whole second, taking in the hybrid and realizing that he didn’t really have anything to say.

Mark felt bad, mostly because he had failed his friend, and there was a small, selfish side of himself that blamed the Samoyed hybrid for everything. He knew it didn’t make sense; Taehyung reacted naturally and he hadn’t known any better, but Mark’s childish side needed something to blame and so he silently blamed it on the innocent hybrid in front of him.

The Taiwanese-American slept with his airpods in that night, pretending he couldn’t hear Taehyung’s guilt-heavy whines carrying over through the wall connecting their bedrooms.