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Seokjin and Yoongi entered Bangtan at around the same time, and for that they were thankful. Companionship was always appreciated in difficult situations, especially when the other would be facing the exact same struggles you would be.
Idolship wasn’t exactly the easiest job in the world, despite what some may have thought, and the hardships didn’t really improve when you differed from the rest. Especially when you were a hybrid.
People liked to think the treatment of hybrids were getting better - that they were finally getting a voice. And that was true. Compared to how hybrids had been treated in the past 50 or so years, the current state of their rights looked rather appealing. Progress had been made.
It just wasn’t enough for Yoongi to have felt comfortable if he was the only hybrid placed in the group.
Humans never really got the concept of personal space, Yoongi thought. When it came to hybrids, at least, nothing seemed to stop their hands from wandering to the extra appendages others may possess. So it didn’t surprise him when the members of his group were no exception.
Yoongi wasn’t a house cat. He wasn’t some domesticated creature bred to just lay there and be pet while purring his heart out. No, he was a Lynx. Proud and strong, capable of taking down anyone and anything with grace and speed. His pointed ears atop his head served as a reminder of that, just as the claws that protruded from his fingers did.
That didn’t stop Hoseok from rubbing behind them like he was some Scottish Fold and cooing about how soft they were.
Seokjin was a different case altogether. He was warm where Yoongi was cold, and where Yoongi had strong reluctance, Seokjin welcomed the affection with open arms. He gleamed as Jimin and Taehyung took interest in the small antlers that sat atop his head, and answered all their questions about how he kept them so pointed and shiny.
The deer hybrid really was something to look at, all long legs and blushing charm. Yoongi would be the first to admit Seokjin was beautiful, from the white tuffs in his black hair to the way his feet stood outwards from one another, occasionally shifting.
The Lynx would have joined the two in exploring the curves of Seokjin’s antlers, but he figured if he did that would just open up the floodgates to more touching from Hoseok. And God forbid his ears and tail get the attention of Taehyung and Jimin.
Namjoon kept a safe distance, observing them all from the corner. Yoongi didn’t know whether to feel relieved or uneasy at that, since the only attitude he’s ever gotten from humans other than the exotification of his animal side was disgust in it. For the his leader to be on the side of the latter would be problematic for all of them.
It turned out that the manager had pulled Namjoon to the side earlier and requested that the boy keep an eye on how the hybrids fit into their dynamic, whether they were worth keeping around or not. Whether the other three were safe around them.
“So, what do you plan on telling them?” Yoongi asked him later, when the other members had retired to their rooms.
“Nothing much,” Namjoon mumbled, not having looked up since Yoongi had confronted about him being so quiet, “You two seem fine enough.”
With that, Namjoon left for his own room at the end off the hall, Yoongi staring off after him.
Despite Namjoon’s obvious reluctance to be in Yoongi’s presence, it was impossible for them to avoid each other. Their schedules required them to be in the same dorm, recording booth, dance studio… Any tension they had between them would have to dissolve eventually. There was no other option. As much as Namjoon was the leader, he couldn’t and wouldn’t waste the company’s time by complaining about the awkward air.
And Yoongi? Yoongi was just a hybrid.
Seokjin got along better with Namjoon more than Yoongi did, but that could be said with most people. Hoseok pointed this out while they were all recovering from a particular hard dance practice, to which Taehyung replied that maybe it was because Yoongi was a natural predator while Seokjin was naturally prey. People that approached Seokjin were less likely to come out bit.
Taehyung was smart.
The statement didn’t go over too well with Seokjin, who scolded the younger, flicking his ear and telling him he shouldn’t make such statements.
“Yoongi is as harmless as a Tabby,” He brushed the hair from Yoongi’s eyes and gave a warm smile, which completed disarmed whatever words of protest had been bubbling up in his throat at the comparison. Yoongi may be a predator, but he sure was declawed when it came to Seokjin.
That stayed a metaphor only for a while.
Yoongi, despite liking sleep a little too much, didn’t put anything less than his all into their music. It was something that had helped him gain the spot in the company in the first place, and it sure wasn’t a trait that he planned on suppressing anytime soon. Not even when it led to conflict.
“My part sounds fine,” Namjoon pushed through gritted teeth, “Let’s just move on to the second track already.”
“Your part sounds lazy,” Yoongi shot back, “I know you’re tired or stressed or whatever, but your verse sounds slow and out of beat compared to the rest.”
At being called lazy, Namjoon’s shoulders tensed up and his fists clenched. They’d been bickering back and forth for a solid ten minutes already, and Hoseok had already left seven ago when the atmosphere became too uncomfortable for him to concentrate on his work anyway. Leaving the two alone might not have been the best idea on his part.
“You better watch the way you talk to me. I’m the leader.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes, “And I’m older than you. Learn to take some criticism like a big boy.”
That was when any and all of Namjoon’s previous restraint imploded in on itself.
“At least I don’t belong in a fucking laberatory.”
A snarl ripped its way from Yoongi’s mouth before he could contain it, lips curling back to show the pointed canines his genetics graced him with. The sight was enough to hinder Namjoon’s aggression for about a second, nothing longer.
“See? You’re just an animal with the ability to talk,” Namjoon spit out the words like they tasted disgusting in his mouth, some actually landing on Yoongi’s face.
Yoongi didn’t think - he couldn’t. His mind zeroed in on the taller, broader threat that loomed over him and growled at him to act fast before it was too late and he got hurt. Yoongi’s hand snapped out in front of him to slash at the front of Namjoon’s torso, claws ripping through the fabric and the first few layers of the younger’s skin before he pulled back.
With a hiss, Yoongi backed up till he met the wall.
Only when his mind cleared up did he notice Namjoon sitting on the floor with his arms held to the wounds in an attempt to stop the blood from making a mess of the studio. He was in pain, moaning and wincing when the cloth of his shirt brushed up against the four gashes in his front.
“I’ll,” Yoongi breathed out, “I’ll go get someone.”
Namjoon didn’t look up at him when he made his way to the door.
“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Namjoon didn’t require anything more than some cream to make sure the cuts didn’t get infected and a bandage to protect it. It didn’t stop Seokjin from fussing over him though, bringing him hot tea and freshly baked food right to his side whenever the elder felt Namjoon needed it.
Yoongi made himself a voluntary victim of Seokjin’s silent treatment, isolating himself in their room and not speaking a word when the night called for Seokjin to join him.
He lasted 3 days in silence before their manager dragged him out of bed by his hair. Yoongi let out a pained grunt before he looked around the room to see that they were not alone, and that two others accompanied them. They stood stoic by the door, dressed in black head to toe.
Yoongi was so tense he hadn’t realized when his hair was released; only when the offender cleared his throat did Yoongi look back up at him.
“If you want to keep your place in this company after that stunt you pulled, you’ll come without making a scene.”
Yoongi returned to the dorm the next day with bandages tightly wrapped around each of his fingers and a dead look in his eyes.
He had learned to live his life with scars on his fingers in the place of claws by the time Jeongguk was introduced to the group. A third hybrid.
The owl was an owlet, barely 15 and as wide-eyed as you would have expected a hybrid of his type to be. Yoongi had never seen a Strigidae up close, them being a rarity and all. It was rare their type survived long after birth, the wings on their back more often than not messing up the entirety of their spine, and in turn, the vital organs near it.
If Yoongi thought he and Seokjin had it bad when they first met the rest of the group, Jeongguk had it the worst. The poor kid was made to take off his (specially tailored) shirt in order for Hoseok, Taehyung and Jimin to get a better look at the brown and white wings that adorned his back. Feathers filled the space in between his wings and the feathers curved together the further down his back they got, until they stopped entirely.
He really was a sight to be seen. His light brown hair had tiny spots of white throughout it, much to Seokjin’s delight. His eyes were completely and utterly black.
He noticed the way Namjoon couldn’t take his eyes off the small and manicured, yet pointed, talons on the tips of Jeongguk’s fingers, and shared a knowing look when their eyes met.
Namjoon wasn’t afraid of Jeongguk because of the traits he possessed, he feared for him. Ever since Yoongi’s incident, Namjoon had sobered up and begged for forgiveness. He got it from Yoongi, eventually, but the older suspects that he never granted it to himself.
Yoongi would have to have a word to Jeongguk later about just how careful he had to be with those claws of his.
After months and months of working towards their debut, they were granted a day off by the company. A singular day. Other groups would have gotten at least a week, but Yoongi suspected it was because half of theirs consisted of those who weren’t fully human.
They decided to spend it together, of course. Why not? It’s not like any of them could make a trip home just for a singular 24 hours. They went to a public swimming pool that was located on the complete opposite end of Seoul, one that allowed hybrids to enter. It wasn’t exactly Yoongi’s ideal day out, but it paid to see the others enjoy themselves.
While Yoongi had hissed at Hoseok and Namjoon when he caught the two trying to sneak up to him, he did give a nod of approval when the two moved on to where Seokjin was applying sunblock carefully around Jeongguk’s feathers. He even let out a less-than-attractive snort when Seokjin and Jeongguk’s wet forms surfaced from the water Hoseok and Namjoon had thrown them in.
It was Namjoon and Hoseok, however, that were left spluttering when Jeongguk sent a rather large wave of water their way using both his wings.
They ended the day with ice cream. Jeongguk was still puffing up his feathers and shaking in the parlor in order to dry off, and each time Jimin would take a picture with his phone, claiming: “the fans will appreciate how fluffy Kookie is, one day.”
That time was the golden age of their time together.
Unsurprisingly, Jeongguk turned out to be a night owl. Namjoon would often tell them at breakfast how cold it would get in their dorm room because the other would always keep the window open to stare out of.
“Sorry, hyung. I just like the way the breeze feels, and the way the city sounds. I wish we had a balcony.”
Yoongi wishes so, too. He knew that it was his Lynx side that always liked being up high, and part of him could be satisfied by how high they were up in the building, but there was something about the way the walls kept him closed in that blocked a true sense of serenity. He knew that must be how Jeongguk felt, with only the breeze that came through the window to course through his feathers.
It was Taehyung that came up with the idea that they should go to the rooftop. Taehyung always had good ideas.
And that happened to be a great one. Not one boy missed the way Yoongi looked more at peace that he ever had before while he sat, legs crossed, on the very edge of the building. Or how Jeongguk would laugh and grin, opening up his wings every time the wind would pick up just to look like he was flying.
Taehyung joined the two on the ledge, linking hands with Jeongguk when he thought nobody else was looking.
Yoongi had a keen eye for things that were meant to go unnoticed.
He knew he had severely fucked himself over when he glanced at the recording booth’s clock and it read 2am. They had a dance routine that they had to practice early, but Yoongi had stayed behind to work on his bit of the track more. He had promised Seokjin he’d only be an hour at most, and that yes, he’d make sure to eat something before going to bed afterwards.
But, once he had quietly stepped into the dorm and made a break for his and Seokjin’s room, he noticed that two doors were slightly ajar.
It didn’t take much to piece together what was going on when Jeongguk was missing from one and Taehyung from the other.
They had dance practice early the next day, and Yoongi was more than well aware that if Jeongguk was less than his usual golden self, the others would get suspicious. So really, Yoongi was only doing them a favour when he made his way up the stairs and to the rooftop.
He expected walking into a heated makeout session, maybe something more extreme if he was unlucky, but Yoongi didn’t expect what was really going on.
The air of the rooftop was filled with giggles and hushed whispers, and Yoongi was confused as to where they were coming from because there was no one here until he looked up, and his stomach dropped several floors to the ground.
Taehyung had his legs wrapped around Jeongguk’s waist and his arms around his neck, laughing every time Jeongguk would flap his wings a little too hard and send them both jolting higher in the air. They were both fully clothed, thank God, but that wasn’t what had Yoongi’s heart pounding in a way that would have concerned any medical professional.
Jeongguk was flying.
And Yoongi would have been proud, really, if it wasn’t for the fact that a hybrid flying was very, very illegal and in turn very, very dangerous.
“What are you two doing?” Yoongi demanded, causing the steady beat of Jeongguk’s wings to falter and sending the two to an incredibly ungraceful landing. They weren’t hurt - or, Taehyung wasn’t at least - and both looked at Yoongi with equally shocked and shamed expressions. They didn’t know they’d be caught.
“Hyung, please let us explain,” Jeongguk began, but Yoongi held up his hand.
“I don’t care about whatever little romance you two have going on,” Yoongi continued before the two could break into a proper smile, “But you can’t ever do that again. Do you know how much trouble you could get in for flying, Jeongguk? Taehyung, you’re older, you shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.”
“But it’s so dark, Hyung, and we’re so high,” Taehyung tried to reason, but Yoongi was having none of it.
“It doesn’t matter. Anything could happen. You think management would be kind to Jeongguk if they found out what was going on? What do you think would happen to him?”
Yoongi himself didn’t know, but the horrid implications were enough to scare all three of them.
Along with noticing secrets, Yoongi always managed to try and stop things after it was too late for them to be stopped.
It was a week after that incident when the manager, accompanied by five others this time, knocked on the dorm’s door. Yoongi tried to make a break for the room where Jeongguk was still sleeping, but was quickly tackled and injected with something that Yoongi could guess was a sedative, the way his muscles immediately went limp.
He was caught before his head could hit the floor. Someone rocked him back and forth as the manager's voice rang throughout the place, calming and reassuring the other boys that everything was fine, that they should stay calm. He heard the sound of a door opening, and then the panicked shouts of Jeongguk, followed by the sound of wings frantically flapping, hitting walls and furniture in an attempt to get away.
Yoongi felt tears hitting his cheek, mixing in with his own.
“He’s only a baby, he’s only a baby, our darling youngest, he’s only a baby,” Seokjin whispered above him.
Stargazers had seen human sized figures flying above the BigHit building and reported it to the company, Namjoon explained to him later. They were cleaning up the mess of feathers that covered his and Jeongguk’s room while Taehyung and Seokjin were in the bathroom with the youngest. The two didn’t know what exactly was going on in there, but they could hear crying over the sound of the shower.
Jeongguk’s wings had been messily clipped and bound together with gauze so tightly that the feathers below it were either snapped or bent out of shape. Yoongi wouldn’t be surprised if the same could be said for some of the bones in Jeongguk’s wings.
More people came by later that day to drill security bars onto Namjoon and Jeongguk’s window.
Now the place looked as much like a prison as it felt.
It took two weeks for Jeongguk to eat more than a couple bites of what Seokjin would feed him, and even more for him to complete a meal. He hadn’t stopped jumping at the sound of people knocking on the door. None of them had.
Jeongguk had a hard time keeping up with the choreography with his wings still restrained behind his back, but Yoongi admired the way he pushed through it anyway. Even though he wouldn’t go anywhere near their human dance teacher, opting to cower behind Taehyung whenever it was time to hear feedback.
They all worked their hardest to help Jeongguk recover. Jimin and Hoseok had even made their way to a local furniture store to buy a nice white rug to cover up the spots of blood that stained Namjoon and Jeongguk’s carpet. Whoever clipped his wings didn’t care for being careful about it.
Taehyung and Jeongguk were more inseparable than before. There was barely a time the two weren’t touching, or where you wouldn’t catch Taehyung whispering whatever thoughts came to his mind right in Jeongguk’s ear. If Jeongguk minded, you couldn’t tell with the way he leaned into the touch and voice.
Yoongi felt he was watching something much bigger than a teenage romance blossom in front of him.
Their debut was postponed for obvious reasons, and Jeongguk’s bounds were finally allowed off. The six of them had to hide their grimaces when the array of broken and frayed feathers were revealed, taking the place of where there was once nothing but their pristine counterparts. They were almost glad Jeongguk couldn’t see them; his wings hurt too much to move.
He’d have an x-ray done later.
Yoongi found Jeongguk alone on the rooftop three months later, watching the sunset from the ledge. It was the day before their first music video would be released.
“I feel like following the wind off,” The younger said, moving his gaze from the burning yellows and pinks of the sky to stare down at his shoes.
“It’ll be a while until you’d be able to fly again,” Yoongi reminded him, glancing at the pair of wings in front of him which still held a slight dent where they were bound all those weeks ago.
“I know,” Jeongguk didn’t look up.
Things for hybrids had improved over the last 50 years, but that doesn’t mean that they were okay.