Archive of Our Own ^beta

It has been pouring down all day. 

Jaehee ends up canceling all his plans because of the relentless weather. He is supposed to visit Sion and celebrate with him—Sion’s partner, a cat hybrid named Riku, has just started working at a kindergarten, and the three of them have planned a little gathering. On top of that, Jaehee is also meant to stop by his parents’ house. They keep pestering him lately, worried he might “die alone,” since he hasn’t been giving them much in the way of life updates ever since starting college. 

The truth is, Jaehee is simply occupied. He joins the music club and, thanks to his piano skills, is quickly accepted into the college band. He somehow manages to land a spot on the soccer team as well. And of course, his academic workload keeps piling up too. 

He’s juggling between all of it but he’s doing fine, maybe a little out of touch with his family but he’s fine. 

His parents have always been the type to worry about their children more often than not. Being the youngest, Jaehee spends years watching his older brothers get nagged about how they should live their lives. Especially when it comes to… relationships. 

His eldest brother, Jaehyun, is dating a cat hybrid named Taeyong. Now, their parents aren’t exactly old-fashioned or openly against it, but Jaehee is no fool; he knows they don’t prefer it either. Especially when Taeyong is more the fierce type. Doesn’t smile at anyone except Jaehyun. To say their parents are unpleasant about it is quite the understatement.

Meanwhile, his second brother Jaemin is dating Jeno, a puppy hybrid with all the warmth of a samoyed. Their parents react differently to that—probably because Jeno’s smile is so bright and unguarded that it makes his eyes disappear, leaving everyone with no choice but to coo.

But still, it doesn’t matter who their children bring home. Their parents will always find something to say anyway. They can’t bear to see their kids just live without poking their noses into it. 

Even more if the said children has just gotten into college, freshly moved out from the house and lives by himself. You can only imagine how many calls he receives from his mother every day. In the beginning, when he first moves to Seoul, he answers almost every time. Partly out of homesickness for Daegu, partly because her voice gives him comfort.

Until it gets too much he decides to put on Do Not Disturb almost permanently. 

It’s not really his fault, really. 

Jaehee sighs as he turns toward the window, watching the dark sky rumble with thunder while raindrops race each other down the glass. The storm makes his small apartment feel emptier. With another sigh, he flicks on the television, letting the noise chase away the silence. 

He hates to admit it but sometimes, he gets where his parents are coming from. It’s a little bit lonely to live by yourself. But he’s getting used to it. 

The door bell rings and Jaehee jumps from the couch, excited to get his friend chicken for dinner. Perfect timing too, since gloomy weather always pairs best with hot, greasy food. He hurries to the door, swinging it open only to be greeted by a gust of wind and a spray of rain. He expects to see the delivery guy but the guy is nowhere to be seen. 

Jaehee frowns, irritation cutting through his excitement. Who would play around with someone’s doorbell in this kind of storm? 

He’s just about to close the door when he notices a familiar plastic bag tucked against the wall to the right. Relief loosens his shoulders. Maybe the delivery guy just wanted to drop it off quickly in this weather. Bending down, Jaehee picks up the food and turns back inside.

Until there’s something— or more like someone holding the door from doing so. 

A spike of panic shoots through him. His mind races with the worst possible scenarios: stalkers, robbers, serial killers. He has the urge to scream as he shoves the door wide to catch whoever it is before they can force their way in. 

His screams die in his throat as soon as he lands his eyes on the trembling hand, attached to a shivering body soaked through by the rain. It’s a boy—his shirt ripped, shorts smeared with dirt, shoes and socks equally battered. His black hair clings wetly to his forehead, and his wide, round eyes dart toward Jaehee with unmistakable fear.. 

Something flickers and Jaehee’s eyes move to the movement and once he does, he gasps.

Are those ears? 

He opens and closes his mouth, speechless. He has never really dealt with a hybrid on his own before. Mostly he’s only seen them in public, or met his brothers’ partners once in a while… maybe once every six months, and then there’s Riku, who’s technically his friend but really Sion’s boyfriend.

And the one standing in fear in front of him is clearly a stray. 

“I- uh, hi?” 

He winces at how painfully awkward he sounds. 

The guy (cat? hybrid?) frowns faintly and lowers his head, avoiding his gaze. 

Shit, Jaehee really doesn’t know what to do. He can’t just close the door on the guy’s face, can he? The guy is in a poor state and Jaehee has too much empathy to be doing so. 

He sighs. “Urm, do you want to come in? It’s warmer inside.”

At the mention of warmth, the guy’s ears twitch and he tilts his head slightly before giving a small nod. His eyes flick away the second Jaehee’s meet them. Cute. 

“Come in!” Jaehee smiles, he watches the hybrid slip out of his wet shoes at the door. Jaehee closes the door behind him, only to nearly bump into the boy’s back when he turns around, the guy is obediently standing right there, waiting for him to lead. 

Jaehee frowns at the behavior but doesn’t comment. Instead, he heads toward the dining table, setting down the bag of chicken and pulling out plates and utensils for two. By the time he’s done arranging everything, he glances back—only to see the hybrid still lingering by the door, hesitant, like he’s scared to cross into the room without permission. 

“…Do you need help?” 

The guy fidgets as his big eyes avoid Jaehee’s again and looks down. 

Jaehee frowns again. What a weird… cat. Guy? Nah, he really doesn’t know. 

“Would you like to… shower first, then? You can wear my clothes,” Jaehee offers.

Again, at the mention of being comfortable, the cat’s ears perk up, just a little. He raises his head to make eye contact with Jaehee only for a while to nod, before he looks down again. 

Jaehee gives a small nod back. “Alright. This way.”

He leads the hybrid to the bathroom and leaves once he hears the water start running, making sure it’s warm enough. On the sink, he sets out a towel and a set of clean clothes before stepping out, closing the door quietly behind him. 

He fiddles with his phone as he waits. At some point, it even leads to a desperate Naver search: how to talk to a cat hybrid and does a cat hybrid bite? It’s not that he’s ignorant. He does have hybrid acquaintances at school, and he’s close with Riku, too. But Riku is… well, Riku. Touchy, clingy, and absolutely whipped for Sion. Truly a perfect match for Sion.  Not exactly a reference point for this situation. 

Jaehee’s head turns embarrassingly fast towards the click of the bathroom door opening, even more so with how his eyes widen as he sees the guy in his clothes. The Seoul National University jersey hangs all the way down to his thighs, and the sweatpants drag so much they cover his feet. 

If not for the shy way the guy glances at him from under damp bangs, Jaehee would’ve squealed at how adorable he looks. Instead, he clears his throat, scrambling for composure. “Nice! L-let’s eat…?”

He tries not to stare, he really does, but fails miserably as the hybrid sits across from him. Wet strands of hair cling to his face, nearly veiling his wide eyes, and Jaehee has to physically stop himself from leaning over to brush them back. He focuses instead on opening the box of chicken, carefully placing two drumsticks onto the hybrid’s plate before serving himself. 

Surprisingly, the hybrid doesn’t wait for him and immediately starts eating like a starved man… or a starved cat…? 

Jaehee watches, momentarily forgetting his own hunger. He’d been starving all day, too lazy to cook in the cold weather, and had only just gathered enough energy to order dinner. But now, seeing how ravenous the hybrid is, he can’t bring himself to take a bite. Doesn’t shy to lick the bones as well.

On instinct, he slides more pieces onto the boy’s plate, silently refilling it as fast as he empties it. It’s only when he notices the boy’s shoulders easing, posture loosening, that Jaehee finally allows himself to eat. 

“My name is Jaehee,” he says between bites. “I’m twenty this year. How about you?” 

Jaehee embraces himself for the hybrid to brush it off. But no, he gets a response. And if it isn’t the cutest voice he has heard in his life… 

“Yushi. Twenty-one.”

Jaehee comically covers his mouth with his hand like a schoolgirl, a bit too giddy for the interaction. “You’re a hyung, then! Nice to meet you, Yushi hyung!” 

For a fleeting moment, Yushi’s eyes flick toward him. Then they drop again, back to his plate, his shoulders curling inward like a shell closing.  Jaehee pouts, disappointed the interaction ended so quickly. Still, he tells himself Yushi probably just needs time to adjust.

And Jaehee is nothing if not patient.

He can wait. 

-

Okay, maybe he can’t. 

Dinner ends with Yushi eating most of the chicken, but Jaehee is too busy staring to care. Now they’re on the couch, except Yushi sits on the furthest end, curled up into himself. Jaehee tells himself to let him be… he really does but the moment they moved from the table to the living room, he caught a glimpse of Yushi’s tail swishing, and now all he wants to do is touch it. 

Yushi notices his staring, of course. He probably feels uncomfortable. Is it the same with human beings being uncomfortable when someone stares at their ass? Is it? 

The last thing Jaehee wants is to scare the hybrid or make him feel unsafe, so he forces his attention back to the TV. He flips through channels until he settles on I Live Alone, something fun enough to entertain both of them.

Unfortunately, Jaehee’s parents’ nosy genes might’ve caught up to him, because he can’t focus on the screen. The voices blur into static as his thoughts wander. What is Yushi thinking right now? What’s his first impression of Jaehee? Probably that he’s some awkward guy who happened to be hungry during the rain. Yushi must’ve found his house because of the smell of food, right? He can only imagine how long Yushi had been walking alone, drenched, before ending up here.

Jaehee is pulled back to the present when he hears a soft, purring sound from the other side of the couch. He turns, and there’s Yushi, head tucked on his knees, trying to make himself as small as possible—yet his wide eyes are glued to the TV. He looks… happy? Excited? Jaehee glances at the screen and realizes I Live Alone is still playing. 

Except now Kai from EXO is on, giving a little house tour. When Jaehee looks back at Yushi, he notices the hybrid’s tail swishing.

No way. 

Is Yushi a fan of Kai? 

It confirms his suspicion when Kai laughs at his own words and Yushi softly smiles along with him. 

What the fuck. 

Jaehee frowns, suddenly bitter at the idol on the screen. Why does Kai get to make Yushi smile and purr while Jaehee is stuck sitting on the far end of the couch? 

And is he being fucking jealous right now? 

His fingers itch to turn off the television. Instead, he reaches for his phone again to get his mind out of the gutter. He scrolls for as long as he can until his neck feels stiff, then pushes up from the couch with a sigh and heads for his room. 

He plops on the bed, sighs happily at how comfy it is before continuing scrolling on his phone. 

What he doesn’t expect is for Yushi to follow him. The hybrid lingers by the door, looking nervous. 

“Hyung?” Jaehee calls. “Aren’t you watching the TV?” 

Yushi gives him an awkward smile that shows his teeth, and for the second time of the night, he speaks. “And you aren’t.” 

“Pardon?” Jaehee sits up.

“You are not watching with me,” Yushi replies quietly.

Jaehee’s mind speeds to find an answer but none. So he says the truth, “I don’t really feel like watching anyway and you look like you enjoyed the show so I was planning to let you enjoy it…?”

That seems to be the wrong thing to say, because Yushi frowns. “Does that mean you don’t enjoy it?”

“That’s not what I meant—“

“You don’t like Kai?” 

Jaehee halts and laughs in disbelief, of course the reason that Yushi is having a conversation with him is because of Kai. 

“I do. I just don’t feel like watching is all,” Jaehee replies. 

“That’s right. Everyone should like Kai,” Yushi mutters. 

The silence then follows after, with Jaehee sitting up on his bed and Yushi standing on the doorway, both staring at each other as if they don’t know what to do next. 

Jaehee is usually good at making conversation but tonight, however, seems to be a different story. He finds himself losing words more often than not and it gotta be because of the sudden appearance from a certain hybrid. Still he can’t help but to try anyway. 

“Do you want to sleep now?” Jaehee asks, albeit carefully. 

The hybrid gives him a confused look, “You’re not kicking me out…?” 

It’s Jaehee’s turn to look confused. “Why would I do that?” 

“Because… people don’t usually keep strays around.”

The reply has Jaehee’s body going rigid for a second before he softens immediately at the realisation; Yushi has been tossed aside for God knows how many times and he thinks it’s normal. He thinks a hint of kindness would never last long. He thinks Jaehee would do the same thing to him. 

“Hey,” Jaehee says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed now. “I don’t know what you’ve been through but I’m not… gonna do things you don’t like, okay? I’m not gonna be like those people.” 

That earns him a flicker of surprise in Yushi’s round eyes, his ears twitching as though he doesn’t know how to process it.

Jaehee chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m not saying you have to stay forever or anything, but tonight? You’re not going back out there. It’s cold, it’s late, and my house is way better than wet streets.”

Yushi shifts his weight, eyes flicking down to the floor. “…But I’ll be in the way.”

“You won’t.” 

Silence stretches, and Jaehee can feel how badly Yushi wants to argue, but also how tired he must be. So he softens his voice. “Come on. You deserve one night where you’re just warm, fed, and safe. Please… let me give you that.”

The hybrid looks at him for a long moment, then finally nods, almost imperceptibly.

Relief washes over Jaehee, and he grins so wide his cheeks hurt. “Great! I’ll get you a blanket. Do you want the bed or the couch?”

Yushi’s eyes widen, like he can’t believe Jaehee’s bed is an option. “…The couch is fine.”

“No way,” Jaehee says, already tugging an extra blanket from the closet. “Hyung gets the bed. That’s how it works.”

Yushi’s tail flicks uncertainly, but he lets himself be guided. By the time Jaehee coaxes him into lying down, Yushi still looks wary, curled tight under the blanket.

Jaehee pats the edge of the bed. “See? Not so bad, right?”

A quiet hum escapes Yushi, almost like a purr, though he hides his face against the pillow.

Jaehee smiles softly, standing by the doorway. “Sleep well, Yushi hyung. I’ll be in the guest room if you need me, which is, just next to you.” 

And as Jaehee flicks off the light, he swears he hears the faintest whisper back:

“…Thank you.”

-

Jaehee wakes up to the constant ringing from his phone. It’s from no other than his own mother.

“Hello, mom.” 

“Hello?! I am worried to death and you’re saying hello?!” Jaehee puts the phone away from his ear as he covers his eyes with his arms. 

“I didn’t visit yesterday because it was raining so hard, mom. I just didn’t want to risk any trouble.”

“Then, you could have at least texted?! You didn’t call back either! I thought you’d get into a car crash!” 

Jaehee winces at his mother’s words. He did receive the spam calls and messages but let’s just say he was too busy entertaining a guest last night. 

Speaking of. He wonders if Yushi is already awake. 

“Sorry, I got carried away trying to fix my sleeping schedule,” he lies. 

"You're going to end up catching every disease before your father and I do. Stop sleeping so much.” 

Jaehee groans and drags the pillow over his face. “Mom, sleeping is healthy—”

“Not when you use it as an excuse! Have you been eating properly? Or are you skipping meals again? You sound thin.”

He peeks out from under the pillow, baffled. “How do I sound thin?”

“I know these things. I carried you for nine months, you think I can’t tell?”

“Mom…”

“Did you even go visit your brother like you promised? Jaehyun said you barely text him back. And Jaemin too. All of you live in Seoul together but can’t even make time to meet! Honestly, Jaehee, you’re going to be the death of me with how you don’t update anyone.”

He sighs, guilt sinking into his chest. “I’ll visit them soon, okay? And I’ll see you soon too.”

“You said that last week!”

Before Jaehee can think of another excuse, another voice joins the call in the background. His father, “Stop nagging the boy first thing in the morning. Let him breathe first.”

“Breathe? He’ll be breathing alone forever if he keeps ignoring us,” his mother mutters, but she hands the phone over anyway.

“Son.” His father’s voice is calmer. “We just want to know you’re alive, alright? Call once in a while. That’s all.”

Jaehee smiles faintly, though no one can see it. “…Got it, Dad.”

“Good. Now hang up before your mother starts again.”

“Hey!” his mother protests in the background, but the line goes dead before she can grab the phone back.

Jaehee drops his arm over his eyes again, phone still in hand, and lets out a long exhale. The room is quiet, save for the faint sound of birds chirping outside the window.

He stays there, sprawled on the bed, wondering how the hell he’s supposed to balance this life with the one waiting outside his door.

Usually, he stays in bed until late evenings during the weekend but since he has company, he can’t procrastinate. So he gets up to make breakfast. 

The main bedroom door is closed so Jaehee just assumes Yushi is still deep in sleep. He contemplates on peeking his head in before thinking how weird it is to watch someone sleep so he decides against it. 

What surprises him is how there’s a bundle of someone curled up on the far end of the couch, cocooned tightly in the blanket.

That someone is no other than Yushi himself. 

Did he sleep in the living room instead of the bed? Why?

Jaehee blinks, torn between confusion and amusement, because Yushi looks so damn comfortable. His knees are drawn close to his chest, arms tucked in, tail curled neatly around the blanket as if guarding it. The oversized jersey slips off one shoulder, revealing pale skin that rises and falls in steady breaths. His black hair is a mess, sticking up in odd directions, but somehow it makes him look even softer.

His ears twitch faintly, as though responding to a dream, and then settle back down. The expression on his face is uncharacteristically peaceful—no trace of the wariness or caution that lingered in his eyes last night. 

Jaehee bites back a laugh. He really does look like a cat who claimed the comfiest spot in the house and refused to budge. 

For a moment, Jaehee just stands there, watching the steady rise and fall of Yushi’s chest, the way the blanket wrinkles around him from where he must’ve kneaded it before dozing off.

He looks… safe.

And Jaehee doesn’t dare wake him. So he turns to the kitchen before he starts doing something out of his mind, like jumping on the couch and start smooching the cat or something. 

He’s totally becoming a weird person. 

The apartment is still dim, the sky outside heavy with leftover clouds. The rain has stopped, but the roads glisten with puddles, and the air carries that crisp smell of wet earth. Inside, it’s quiet—eerily so compared to last night’s thunder—and Jaehee finds himself tiptoeing even though Yushi is wrapped up like a burrito in the living room.

He pads into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge, frowning at its meager contents. Half a carton of eggs, some kimchi, milk, and winces when he finds a leftover banana that’s gone a little too spotty. Not exactly the spread of a good host. Still, it’s better than nothing.

“Alright, eggs it is,” he mutters under his breath, setting the carton on the counter.

He grabs a pan, heats a little oil, and cracks two eggs with practiced ease. The sizzle fills the silence, warm and familiar, and soon enough he’s humming under his breath—an absent little tune from one of the songs he’s been practicing with the band. He toasts some bread, arranges the kimchi on the side, and feels oddly domestic in a way he hasn’t in… well, ever.

The thought makes him laugh quietly to himself. Him? Making breakfast for someone else? He barely does this for himself.

He’s plating the eggs when he hears the faintest shuffle behind him.

Jaehee glances over his shoulder and nearly drops the spatula. 

Yushi is there, hovering. His hair is an even bigger mess now, flattened on one side from the couch, sticking out on the other like static. The jersey is sliding off one shoulder again, blanket still half-draped over him like a cape. His eyes are heavy-lidded, blinking slowly, his ears twitching with each sound from the pan.

“Hyung—” Jaehee starts, then cuts himself off. His voice sounds too loud in the quiet morning, so he softens it. “Good morning. Did I wake you?”

Yushi shakes his head, rubbing one eye with the back of his hand. His tail flicks lazily, betraying how sluggish he still is. “No… the smell.” His voice is groggy, small.

Jaehee’s heart does a weird little flip. Cute. Way too cute.

“I only have eggs and bread. Hope that’s okay?” he says, trying to sound casual as he gestures at the plates.

Yushi blinks at the food, then at Jaehee, as if trying to process the situation. Finally, he nods. “It’s okay.”

The hybrid shuffles to the table, still carrying the blanket like a shield. He climbs into the chair and curls up instinctively, tucking his legs under him, tail swaying just slightly over the edge of the seat. He looks so at home doing it that Jaehee’s chest warms before he can stop himself.

The younger places a plate in front of Yushi, who immediately leans in, inhaling like a cat catching the scent of something delicious. Well… technically he is  a cat. Jaehee tries not to grin like an idiot as he sets down his own plate across from him.

“Eat up, hyung,” he says, almost too brightly.

Yushi tilts his head at him, still half-asleep, then obediently takes a bite. His ears twitch in satisfaction, and Jaehee swears he hears the faintest hum—almost a purr—slip past his lips.

And just like that, Jaehee knows his morning is ruined. Or maybe saved. He can’t tell which.

It’s late afternoon, and Jaehee is still debating what to order for lunch, mostly because Yushi refuses to say what he wants, when the doorbell rings.

Yushi, dressed in a fresh set of Jaehee’s clothes, just a plain white shirt and shorts, sits on the couch in the exact same spot as before. His eyes widen slightly at the sound. Jaehee only shrugs back at him. 

He racks his brain for who could possibly be showing up unannounced on a random Sunday, and only one name comes to mind.

His mother. 

He prays to every Gods up there that it’s not. Not when Yushi is here, at least. 

So he scrambles to the door to find who’s behind the door. And instantly sighs in relief when he sees Sion and Riku’s faces. 

Though, it doesn’t last long because he immediately panics when he remembers how he hasn’t told them about the sudden hybrid in his house. “W-what are you doing here?” 

Riku frowns at him, “Did you forget that we’re supposed to celebrate me yesterday?”

“Yeah! So why are you guys here?” Jaehee asks again, his eyes practically begging them to just turn around and leave.

But if there’s one thing about this couple, it’s that they’re terrible at picking up on signs. Sion is already stepping past him before Jaehee can stop them. 

“I brought some soup, since it’s good to have— Who is that?!” 

Jaehee slaps a hand over his face just as Sion’s shout rings out, quickly followed by Riku’s. He jogs to the living room and sees how Yushi immediately gets even more closer to the wall and… hissing? 

“Oh my god is that—“

Riku practically bounces on his heels, eyes sparkling. “A cat hybrid! Oh my god, Jaehee, you didn’t tell me you had one at home! What’s his name? How old is he? Where did you even—”

He takes a step forward before Jaehee can stop him. 

“Wait—” Jaehee blurts, but it’s too late. Yushi’s back arches, his blanket falling to the floor as he presses himself tighter against the couch armrest. His lips curl back just enough to bare the sharp edges of his teeth, a low hiss vibrating through his chest.

Riku freezes on instinct, ears flicking back. “O-oh. Sorry.” His voice is smaller now, but still curious, almost eager. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… it’s rare to see another hybrid like me. I got excited.”

“Riku.” Sion cuts him off sharply, voice almost scolding, though his gaze never leaves Jaehee. His brows are furrowed so tightly they almost touch, and his arms are crossed in that no-nonsense, explain-now way. “You better start talking. What the hell is going on here? You didn’t mention anything about this yesterday.”

Jaehee groans under his breath, dragging his hands down his face. “It’s… it’s not what it looks like—”

“Not what it looks like?!” Sion snaps. He gestures toward the living room where Yushi is still curled defensively on the couch, blanket half-slipping off his shoulders as his ears flatten tight against his head. His tail lashes once, twice, then stills, only to twitch again when Riku tries to take a step closer.

Jaehee’s pulse is hammering, caught between Sion’s glare and the soft, rumbling growl that Yushi won’t stop making. “It’s not—he’s not—” He stumbles over his words, desperate to calm the room down. “It was raining, he was out in the storm, he didn’t have anywhere to go. What was I supposed to do, leave him out there?!”

“That’s exactly what you should have done!” Sion snaps, but the edge in his voice only makes Yushi flinch harder. His tail lashes furiously behind him, the tip whipping against the couch fabric.

“Stop yelling!” Jaehee hisses back, then immediately regrets raising his tone when Yushi hisses louder, ears pinned flat.

Riku takes another cautious step back, this time lowering his body slightly, his own ears tilted to the side in something apologetic. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says softly, voice carrying a different weight than Sion’s. “I’m like you, see?” He taps his ear gently, showing the twitch of fur, then lets his tail flick once in the open. “I’m not here to hurt you. Promise.”

Yushi doesn’t look convinced. His wide eyes dart to Jaehee instead, like he’s silently asking what to do.

Jaehee’s chest squeezes. He slowly lowers himself to the floor beside the couch, keeping his hands visible and his posture loose. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, ignoring the way Sion is still fuming behind him. “They’re my friends. Riku’s a cat hybrid too. He knows what it’s like.”

Yushi’s growl falters, though his body stays tense. His tail still twitches, but the hissing quiets until it’s just a low, wary rumble.

“That’s it,” Jaehee whispers, his eyes soft. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m here.”

For a long, thick silence, nothing moves. Then Yushi finally lowers his chin, ears still pinned but no longer trembling. His claws loosen from the couch fabric, and the sharp lines of his posture begin to round.

The growl fades completely.

Jaehee exhales shakily, relief rushing through him.

Behind him, Riku murmurs, almost in awe, “He trusts you…”

The cool air greets Jaehee the second he slides the porch door shut behind them. He rubs the back of his neck, nerves buzzing as muffled silence settles between him and Sion. Inside, Riku is crouched by the couch, ears perked, tail swishing slowly as he tries to coax Yushi into relaxing. Jaehee silently prays the apartment won’t erupt into hissing again. Or a cat fight.

The older crosses his arms, leaning against the railing. His sigh is heavy, the kind that comes from both worry and annoyance. “Jaehee, what are you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking!” Jaehee blurts, then winces at himself. “I mean… what was I supposed to do? Kick him out into the rain?”

“That’s not the point.” Sion’s voice drops a little, but his brows furrow. “Do you know how hard it is to take care of a hybrid? Especially a stray cat at that? Cat hybrids are… complicated. They need food, space, patience—so much patience.” He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re still a student. You don’t even have a stable income.”

Jaehee bristles, arms tightening around himself. “It’s been barely a day. I don’t even know if he wants to stay here. I just… don’t know what to do other than let him stay.”

“That’s exactly how it starts,” Sion shoots back, his eyes narrowing with worry rather than malice. “One day turns into a week. A week turns into a month. Suddenly you’re feeding him, buying him clothes, making sure he doesn’t scratch the neighbors, and—you can’t keep up. Not when you’ve got classes, projects, exams.”

Jaehee’s throat tightens. He glances through the glass window, catching a glimpse of Riku softly chattering in his hybrid way, ears tilting as Yushi peeks warily at him. “You’re saying that like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Because you don’t,” the other says flatly, then softens at Jaehee’s glare. “Look, I’m not trying to sound like an ass. I just… I know what it’s like. Riku isn’t hard to love, but he’s not easy to take care of either. He eats more than me, he needs attention all the time, and don’t get me started on vet bills.” He huffs. “And that’s with me working. You? You’ve got ramen and takeouts on your table.”

Jaehee flushes, both defensive and embarrassed. “That doesn’t mean I can’t try. You act like I’m useless.”

“I didn’t say useless.” Sion straightens, his expression gentler now. “I’m saying this because I care. You’ve got a good heart, Jaehee. Too good, sometimes. You see a drenched stray and you think you can save him. But what happens when saving him becomes bigger than you can handle? You have just turned twenty.”

The younger doesn’t answer right away. He chews his lip, watching as Riku extends his hand carefully on the couch, tail swaying like a flag of peace. To his surprise, Yushi doesn’t hiss this time, he just curls tighter under the blanket, watching with suspicious eyes but not running.

Jaehee swallows. “Then I’ll handle it when it comes. For now… he’s here. He’s safe. Isn’t that enough?”

Sion sighs again, pinching his nose bridge. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me anyway,” Jaehee shoots back with a sheepish grin, trying to cut the tension.

“Barely,” Sion mutters, but his lips twitch as if he’s hiding a smile.

“Yushi… he doesn’t want to talk to me. He barely talks at all. He only talks when there’s food,” Jaehee admits, shoulders slumping. He doesn’t mention the Kai incident because, God, just remembering how jealous he felt makes him want to bury his head.

Sion only hums in response, leaning back against the porch railing. His eyes drift out toward the quiet street, but Jaehee knows he’s thinking.

Jaehee glances at him, hesitant. “How… how did you get Riku to talk to you?”

That gets a small chuckle out of Sion, though it’s dry, edged with memory. “Riku? Talk? Don’t let the clingy mess you see now fool you. When I first brought him home, he was a nightmare. He wasn’t a stray, but he sure acted like one. Black cat through and through. All he did back then was hissing, glaring, scratching. Every chance he got, he tried to take a swipe at me. I’d wake up with claw marks on my arms some mornings.”

Jaehee blinks, stunned. He can hardly imagine his Riku hyung—bubbly, affectionate Riku—ever being like that.

Sion laughs at the disbelief on his face. “I’m serious. I’d put food in front of him, and he’d snatch it like I was gonna take it away. Wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn’t let me touch him. I thought, at one point, I’d made the worst mistake of my life. That maybe I wasn’t cut out for it.”

“What changed?” 

The older pauses, rubbing at his thumb with his other hand. “Stupid accident, really. I was cutting vegetables one night, think it was carrots maybe, and the knife slipped. Cut my finger pretty deep. I tried to ignore it, but blood was dripping everywhere. I didn’t even notice Riku staring until he just… stopped being angry. He padded over, ears flat, tail stiff, and he licked my hand. Like, out of nowhere.”

Jaehee’s eyes widen. “No way.”

“I swear,” Sion says with a wry smile. “It was the first time he touched me without claws. After that, he wasn’t suddenly sweet or anything, but he was… different. He started watching me more. Following me around. One night I woke up and found him curled on the edge of my bed. By the next week, he was crawling under my blanket.”

Jaehee can’t help but grin a little. “So he just… needed time?”

“Time. Patience. Proof I wasn’t going to abandon him.” Sion nods. “You know Riku. He’s touchy now. Can’t get him off me half the time. Always wants cuddles, always wants to be near me. But it didn’t start that way. It started with him not trusting a single thing. With him thinking I was just another human who’d throw him away when I got tired of him.”

His chest tightens immediately. It sounds too close to Yushi.

“And it’s not just about him being a brat,” Sion continues. “Hybrids have it rough, Jaehee. They’re not fully accepted anywhere. They deal with looks, with whispers, with people treating them like pets one second and nuisances the next. Riku told me once how hard it was to always feel like he didn’t belong—too human for some, too ‘animal’ for others. That messes with you. Makes you defensive.”

“That… sounds awful.”

“It is,” Sion agrees. “But once he trusted me, once he knew I saw him as an equal, not as a burden or a project to fix, he opened up. He started talking. Started laughing and being himself. And yeah, now we’re in a relationship, and we treat each other equally. But it wasn’t magic. It was work. Every single day. And it still is.”

The weight of his words settles heavy in the air. Jaehee leans against the railing beside him, staring down at his feet. “So you’re saying… if I want Yushi to talk to me, to trust me, I can’t just… expect it to happen overnight.”

“Exactly.” Sion’s voice is firm but not unkind. “You’re eager, I get that. But he’s not a puzzle you can solve in a day. He’s someone who’s probably had every reason not to trust humans. You’ve gotta prove you’re different. And that proof? It comes in the little things. Feeding him. Giving him space. Not pushing when he doesn’t want to talk. Just… being there. Consistently.”

Jaehee nods slowly, the words sinking in. He looks back through the glass door, where he can see Riku’s tail swishing gently as he chatters away. Yushi hasn’t hissed again, though he’s still curled tight in the blanket, eyes flicking every so often toward Riku like he’s finding the right time to cut in. 

“Think he’ll ever open up to me?” Jaehee asks wryly.

Sion laughs. “If Riku stopped scratching me, anything’s possible. Give it some time.”

“So you think I should keep him?” 

The older raises an eyebrow. “I think you shouldn’t.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

Though, Jaehee has already made up his mind. 

When they finally head back inside, Jaehee braces himself for Riku to start whining about how Yushi doesn’t want to be his friend, but the scene that greets him makes him blink in surprise.

Riku and Yushi are sitting on the couch—close. Their shoulders nearly touch, tails flicking lazily as they lean in toward each other. Riku’s voice is hushed, animated, and Yushi… Yushi is actually listening. His wide eyes blink slowly, ears twitching at every word, and every so often he leans closer like he doesn’t want to miss a syllable.

It’s not the picture of hostility Jaehee had dreaded. If anything, it looks like the start of a quiet conspiracy.

Jaehee hides the violent urge to squeal into his sleeve and spins on his heel before he does something embarrassing like clap his hands together. Instead, he blurts, “Uh—I’ll set up the table for lunch!” and darts for the kitchen.

Sion gives him a side-eye but follows anyway, already rolling up his sleeves. “You’re way too obvious, you know,” he mutters.

“Shut up,” Jaehee hisses under his breath, grabbing plates from the cupboard with a little too much force. His ears burn. He keeps his back to the living room, pretending he’s deeply invested in arranging the utensils while sneaking glances at the reflection in the microwave door.

From the corner of his eye, he catches Yushi ducking his head, shoulders a bit more relaxed but still a hint of caution like he’s not used to being this close to anyone, but he doesn’t pull away from Riku either. And Riku, of course, is talking with the ease of someone who’s already decided Yushi is worth keeping.

He presses his lips together, heart pounding in his chest. If he doesn’t keep busy, he’s going to combust.

“Chopsticks or forks?” Sion deadpans.

“Yes,” Jaehee answers quickly.

The older shakes his head, and wordlessly hands him both. 

Later that night, Jaehee and Yushi are watching television again, both at their respective spots of the couch. It’s some melodrama that is showing the female character’s tragic backstory. It starts raining again outside, but not as bad as yesterday, just a faint drizzle against the windows.

Suddenly, Jaehee feels a light brush against his arm. His eyes dart down in surprise as he finds Yushi has inched closer, his tail twitching once as if betraying his nerves.

“…Riku is nice,” Yushi says at last, voice almost buried under the TV dialogue.

Jaehee brightens instantly, his whole face lighting up. “Isn’t he? Riku hyung is very kind! He’s Sion hyung’s boyfriend. They’re both my friends, best friends even.”

Yushi blinks at him. “Do you call everyone older than you hyung? Even if a hybrid?”

“…yes?” Jaehee answers, confused, head tilting. He doesn’t get why that would be strange.

But Yushi only nods, shoulders curling in. His voice softer now, almost like he regrets speaking. “…but I think Riku’s master doesn’t like me.”

Jaehee’s head twists sharply toward him. Master?

“Yushi hyung… Sion hyung is not Riku hyung’s master,” Jaehee says carefully, the words slow, like he wants to make sure they land. “They’re boyfriends. They’re in love with each other. I thought Riku told you already?”

“…he did.” Yushi’s ears flick back, and for a moment he looks smaller, gaze stuck on the TV though his mind is far away. “But that’s weird. Humans only want hybrids as pets, don’t they…?”

Jaehee freezes in place. His lips part, but nothing comes out at first. The line stings, and he can only wonder how Yushi’s been carrying this belief for a long time.

“…what do you mean by that, hyung?” he asks softly, afraid to spook him but desperate to understand.

The hybrid doesn’t answer right away. His hands are in his lap, clutching the blanket. His ears twitch once, then fold flat, betraying his unease.

“My… my old master,” Yushi finally whispers. “He didn’t see me as… anything but property…? Something to order around, to show off, then… punish when I wasn’t perfect.”

Jaehee’s stomach twists. “Punish?”

Yushi nods faintly, not meeting his eyes. “He made me wear a collar all the time. Sometimes chained it, too. He said it was to remind me I was his. And if I messed up… he hit me.” His voice cracks at the last part, so quiet Jaehee almost doesn’t catch it.

Jaehee’s heart lurches. His fists clench against his thighs before he can stop himself, nails digging crescents into his palms. Who the hell—how could anyone—

“I thought that’s how it always is,” Yushi continues, his tail curling tightly around his leg. His eyes flick to the TV, refusing to look at Jaehee. “That humans only… want hybrids to obey. To be cute. To be pets, not… nothing like Riku said.”

The words land heavy in the room, and Jaehee feels his throat tighten. He wants to say something, anything—but Yushi speaks again before he can.

“That’s why it’s strange. Riku said Sion isn’t his master. That they’re… in love. I saw them stealing kisses on the mouth whenever you look away. But that’s not real, is it?” His voice wavers, low and uncertain, as if he’s bracing himself for Jaehee to laugh at the idea.

“…it’s real,” Jaehee blurts out. “Sion hyung loves Riku hyung. They’re partners. They cook together, fight, laugh, cuddle, and do everything a normal couple does. Riku hyung isn’t a pet. He’s family.”

Yushi finally risks a glance at him. His eyes are wide, confused in a way that makes Jaehee’s chest ache.

There’s silence for a long moment, only the background noise of the TV and the faint drizzle outside. Then Yushi swallows hard and murmurs, almost inaudibly, “…Do you want to know why I was outside your house that night?”

The hybrid’s grip on the blanket tightens. “I ran away. From him. He got angry—said I was useless, nothing but trouble. He hit me again and I—” Yushi stops, his throat bobbing. His tail lashes once before curling back in tight. “I couldn’t take it anymore. So I just… ran. I didn’t even know where I was going. Just far away.”

“I saw the light from your window. And the smell of fried chickens too. I just… couldn’t keep going anymore when I realised how hungry I was.”

Jaehee’s hands tremble against his knees. He wants to pull Yushi into his arms right then, to tell him he’s safe now, to swear he’ll never let anyone treat him like that again. But he forces himself to stay still because Yushi is still skittish, cautious. One wrong move could break this fragile moment open too soon. 

He’s lucky enough to hear all this. They barely know each other. 

“Thank you for telling me,” Jaehee says.

Yushi only nods, his eyes flickering back to the television like he never said anything at all. The room falls quiet again, save for the hum of the screen and the soft patter of rain outside. They don’t speak anymore, but Jaehee notices how Yushi doesn’t scoot away this time. Their shoulders almost touch.

It feels like small victory. 

When Jaehee finally lays down on his bed, his mind refuses to rest. He stares at the ceiling, thoughts looping over Yushi’s words, the shadows in his voice, the way he curled into himself as if waiting for another blow. And when he glances out the bedroom door, he thinks about Yushi curling up on the couch under his blanket, chest rising and falling in steady sleep. The picture of a cat who finally found a warm corner. 

Jaehee swallows, pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes. I’ll be better for him. I won’t scare him. I won’t treat him like less than me. He shifts under his covers, a quiet determination settling in his chest. I’ll respect him. I’ll give him every reason to believe he’s safe here. Even if it takes time.

Especially if it takes time.

Outside, the rain finally stops, leaving behind a stillness that feels almost like a promise.

-

Three weeks slip by, and Jaehee learns more and more about the hybrid living in his home. The first thing he discovers is that Yushi isn’t picky with food. He likes food in general—big eater, no questions asked. Jaehee secretly loves it. He’s always wanted an eating buddy, and now he finally has one. It feels like answered prayers, because he can order from new restaurants without worrying about wasting leftovers. Yushi always clears his plate, sometimes even Jaehee’s when he’s too full.

The couch has also become Yushi’s claimed territory. More often than not, Jaehee comes home from classes to find him curled on his usual side, blanket pooled around his legs, waiting. Sometimes Yushi greets him with a timid smile, small and fleeting. Sometimes he looks away, acting as if Jaehee doesn’t exist at all. But Jaehee doesn’t mind either way. He’s happy enough just knowing Yushi is still there.

Yushi has a phone now too—Jaehee’s old one. He doesn’t use it much for messaging or calls because well, he has no one to contact other than Jaehee and Riku, but Jaehee catches him tapping away at games or watching endless clips of EXO, the screen glowing softly against his face. It’s almost endearing how focused he looks.

Jaehee has tried, a couple of times, to get Yushi outside. Just simple things, like suggesting they go shopping together or at least step out for fresh air. Every time, Yushi only shakes his head, retreating further into the safety of the house. Jaehee lets it go, though not without worry.

But today, he’s going to try again. As much as he adores seeing Yushi drowning in his oversized clothes, it would be nice if the hybrid had something that actually fit. Something that belonged to him. Jaehee decides he’ll ask once he’s finished with his assignment, because if there’s one thing he’s learned, Yushi doesn’t like being rushed.

Jaehee tries his best to focus on his assignments, but the task quickly becomes impossible when Yushi plops down right beside him, cheek pressed against the desk. He’s not even subtle about it, just lying there with the biggest, roundest eyes fixed on Jaehee as if studying him instead of the papers.

…How do you expect me to focus like this?

Normally, this is the part where Yushi would glance away, pretend he wasn’t staring, maybe curl back into his safe shell. But not today. Today, Yushi holds his gaze steady, unblinking, so intent that Jaehee feels his own ears heating up. The weight of that curious look is ridiculous. He’s never had someone watch him this closely, let alone with eyes that wide and soft.

He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Wh-what are you looking at, hyung?”

The older doesn’t answer right away. His gaze flicks down at Jaehee’s pen, at the neat rows of notes, before drifting back up to his face. His brows pinch the tiniest bit, the way a cat might tilt its head in confusion. He looks so curious, so serious about whatever is going on in Jaehee’s notebook that Jaehee almost forgets to breathe.

“…Homework?” Yushi finally asks, voice quiet.

The younger bites back a grin. “Yeah. Assignments. Just boring stuff.”

Yushi hums as though weighing the word boring for himself. He doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t stop staring either. His cheek squishes adorably against the desk, lips parted just slightly, and Jaehee can feel his heart squeeze at the sight. It’s insane, how easily this hybrid makes him feel like a flustered teenage boy again.

After a while, Jaehee gives up pretending to concentrate. He turns his pen in his hand and, trying to sound casual, asks, “Hyung, do you want to go shopping with me? For new clothes?”

Yushi blinks, the faintest crease forming between his brows. “…But I like your clothes.”

Jaehee swears there are butterflies exploding in his stomach. His ears burn, his chest feels too tight, and all he can do is laugh breathlessly as he hides his face behind his hand. 

“Well, you still need to have your own clothes. You can’t rely on mine too much, what if I’m too lazy to do the laundry?”

The hybrid frowns like he wants to argue before it resolves into a small pout. “…Okay.”

God, help him.

Jaehee stifles a giggle when he hears Yushi’s small gasps. His Jaehyun hyung had bought him a car as a congratulatory gift when he got into SNU. To be precise, it’s a little too expensive for Jaehyun to insist it was “just a reward.” Still, every time Jaehee slides behind the wheel, he feels the faint buzz of pride in his chest. Driving makes him feel older, more responsible.

That pride falters the second Yushi bounces into the backseat instead of the passenger seat.

“Why are you not in the passenger seat?” Jaehee asks, peeking at him through the rearview mirror.

Yushi tilts his head, his big eyes wide with innocent confusion. “…I can sit at the front?”

“Of course you can,” Jaehee assures immediately.

The transformation is instant—Yushi lit up like a firecracker, scrambling forward with the same excitement as a kitten discovering a sunbeam. He buckles himself in with more determination than skill, tail flicking and twitching as he wiggles into the seat. Jaehee has never seen him look more thrilled over something so small.

Today, Yushi is dressed in one of Jaehee’s oversized sweaters that swallow him whole, sleeves sliding over his fingers, paired with beige shorts. His tail, however, is another story—since Jaehee’s pants never had… Well, holes for tails, Yushi had shoved his through one of the loose leg openings. Jaehee can only imagine how uncomfortable that must be, yet Yushi bore it with the same easy cheer he carries everywhere.

The hybrid practically skips the first few steps into the mall, tail swishing behind him, sweater sleeves bouncing as he goes. But then he glances back, realizes Jaehee isn’t right beside him, and slows immediately, making his steps smaller, head ducked as he waits for Jaehee to catch up.

Jaehee’s fingers itch. He wants to just reach out and hold Yushi’s hand, tug him close and never let go. But instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and laughs quietly. “You don’t have to slow down for me.”

Yushi tilts his head, wide eyes blinking up at him. “…But I want to.”

Jaehee’s heart does a dangerous flip.

They wander through the mall, Yushi’s curiosity spilling over like an overexcited cat. He pokes the moving escalator step with the tip of his shoe before cautiously stepping on, gripping Jaehee’s sleeve on the edge for the entire ride up. 

In the clothing store, Jaehee tries to play it casual, but it’s impossible when Yushi presses himself against his side the moment they walk in. The shop assistants are hybrids too, rabbit ears, fox tails, but Yushi doesn’t care. He hides half his body behind Jaehee, peeking out only when Jaehee gently nudges him forward.

“Hyung, they won’t bite,” Jaehee whispers, fighting a smile.

Yushi shakes his head firmly, eyes narrowing at one of the workers who’d dared to smile politely at him. Then he tugs Jaehee’s sleeve again, voice soft. “…Stay close.”

Jaehee feels sick. Actually sick. Giddy, delirious, chest tight and stomach full of butterflies kind of sick. The cat hybrid could ask him to buy out the entire store and he’d probably do it.

They browse the racks with Yushi clutching Jaehee’s wrist whenever someone passes too close. Jaehee holds up a baby blue sweater, and Yushi blinks at it before his tail swishes in approval. When Jaehee finds a pair of jeans with tail holes stitched in, Yushi’s eyes go round like he’s never seen anything so thoughtful in his life.

“Try it,” Jaehee encourages.

Yushi hesitates, gaze flicking to the dressing rooms, then back to Jaehee. “You’ll wait here?”

“I’ll be right outside,” the younger promises.

And when Yushi finally shuffles into the fitting room, clutching the clothes to his chest like treasure, Jaehee leans back against the wall, pressing his hand over his face. He can’t believe this is his life now. He can’t believe someone like Yushi only wants him around.

Ten minutes later, the fitting room door creaks open, and Jaehee looks up from his phone—only for his breath to catch in his throat.

Yushi steps out in a baby blue sweater that hangs loose on his frame, paired with jeans that finally, finally let his tail peek out comfortably. His ears twitch as he fiddles with the hem of the sweater, tail flicking shyly behind him.

Blue looks really, really good on him.

“Well?” Yushi asks, head tilting.

Jaehee’s mouth works faster than his brain. “…You’re really pretty.”

Silence.

Both of them freeze. Yushi blinks, stunned, before his cheeks flush the same soft pink as his inner ears. Jaehee slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide in horror. “Wait—! I didn’t mean— I mean I did, but not like—ugh!”

The older’s lips twitch, his blush deepening, but he doesn’t look away. He just… stares at Jaehee, ears perked, tail swishing slowly like he’s savoring the moment.

And then, after that, something changes.

Yushi doesn’t cling quite as tightly to Jaehee’s sleeve anymore—instead, he shoves him lightly with his shoulder when Jaehee reaches for the wrong size, muttering, “You’re in the way.” He walks half a step ahead sometimes, sneaking glances over his shoulder, only to shoot Jaehee a glare like don’t follow too close.

When they leave the store, Yushi deliberately edges away, refusing to walk beside him. Jaehee whines, embarrassed, “Hyungg, don’t be mean,” but he’s grinning like an idiot the whole time.

And when Yushi finally lets him catch up, brushing their arms together by accident, Jaehee swears his heart is about to burst out of his chest.

The mall’s food court is loud, filled with the clatter of trays and chatter from tables, but somehow it feels muted to Jaehee. Because across from him, Yushi is sitting with his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, stuffing his face with tteokbokki as if the world might end tomorrow.

“Slow down,” Jaehee chuckles, passing him a napkin. “It’s not going anywhere.”

Yushi takes it but doesn’t slow in the slightest, cheeks round, lips stained red from the spicy sauce. His ears twitch with every bite, tail flicking against the chair leg in satisfaction.

When Jaehee finally asks, “Is there anything else you want to try?” Yushi only shakes his head, still chewing.

Then, with his mouth full, he mumbles, “What about Jaehee?”

Jaehee almost chokes on his drink at the sound of his own name on Yushi’s tongue for the first time. His ears burn red, his heart lurches painfully in his chest. “I—I don’t think so,” he stammers, forcing a casual laugh that doesn’t hide his panic at all.

But the hybrid doesn’t notice. He just keeps eating, as if he hasn’t just made Jaehee’s heart race.

So Jaehee distracts himself by rambling. About his assignments, about the stress of being a student, about his band practices that eat up his weekends, about soccer games with his friends.

It’s all background noise until he notices Yushi’s ears perk straight up.

“Soccer?” Yushi interrupts, eyes sparkling in curiosity.

Jaehee blinks, then grins. “Yeah. Do you… know how to play?”

Yushi eagerly nods, tail swishing under the table. 

The sight makes Jaehee’s chest ache in the best way. Yushi, usually so quiet and timid, looks like a kid being offered candy. An idea slips into his head before he can stop himself.

“Do you want to play together?” he asks, leaning forward.

Yushi doesn’t even hesitate. His eyes widen, ears forward, and his hands tighten on his chopsticks like he’s ready to bolt onto a field right now. “Yes!”

Jaehee laughs, the kind that bubbles up from his chest and can’t be contained. “Okay, okay! We’ll play, I promise.” He doesn’t say when or where yet, but he’s already picturing it—Yushi chasing the ball with his tail fluffed up, ears bouncing, probably tripping over his own feet but laughing the entire time.

They finish their food slowly, Jaehee letting his words spill while Yushi listens with those round, intent eyes, sometimes asking questions that make Jaehee realize he’s being watched far closer than he thought. And the whole time, that single “Jaehee” echoes in his head, like a soft, fragile melody he doesn’t want to stop hearing.

By the time they leave, bags of new clothes in hand, Jaehee feels like the shopping wasn’t even the highlight of the day. It was this—the way Yushi ate happily, the way he scoots closer every time there’s a crowd, the way he said his name.

He’s doomed. Completely doomed.

-

The next day, he drags Yushi out to fulfill the promise. They walk down the familiar streets until the park comes into view. The late afternoon sun warms the pavement, and the sound of laughter drifts from the open field. Kids are chasing each other with plastic swords, parents chat on benches, and a few tiny hybrids—kittens with fuzzy ears, floppy-eared puppies—tumble around in clumsy play.

They find a patch of grass near the goalposts. Yushi watches as Jaehee drops his bag and pulls out a ball. His ears swivel, tail curling high like an antenna. “Soccer!”  

“Soccer,” Jaehee confirms with a grin, nudging the ball toward him. “Show me what you’ve got, hyung.”

Yushi kicks it back with surprising eagerness, though the ball wobbles off course and nearly rolls into a group of kids. One of the toddlers squeals happily and tries to kick it too, which makes Yushi puff up in alarm, ears flat.

“Relax, relax,” Jaehee chuckles, jogging to retrieve it. “It’s okay, they’re just playing too.”

The hybrid huffs, tail swishing in sharp flicks, but when Jaehee sets the ball down again, he perks right back up. His movements are clumsy but earnest—half the time, he chases the ball more like a kitten batting at yarn. He trips over his own feet, ears twitching, but every stumble makes him laugh breathlessly, cheeks pink.

Jaehee watches, hopelessly smitten. Yushi is… radiant. Completely alive in a way he hasn’t seen before. He’s too busy cooing in his head to realize he’s smiling so wide it hurts.

When Yushi finally scores a sloppy goal between two trees, he spins around, tail whipping, beaming at Jaehee like he just won the World Cup.

Jaehee claps exaggeratedly, bowing low. “And the crowd goes wild!”

Yushi giggles and runs back to him, bumping their shoulders with a playful little glare as if to say, Don’t mock me. But Jaehee just laughs, because if this is what being mocked gets him; a happy, glowing Yushi, he’ll do it forever.

Later on, a small boy, maybe seven or eight, tugs at Yushi’s sleeve. His eyes are wide, cheeks red from running.

“Hyung! Play with us! Team up!”

Yushi freezes, looking down at him like the kid just asked him to do algebra. His ears twitch wildly.

The boy beams and points at Jaehee. “Both of you! Come play, hyungs!”

Jaehee grins. “What do you think?”

The hybrid hesitates, glances at the kid, then at Jaehee, who’s only giving him a supportive smile. Finally, he gives a tiny nod.

That’s all it takes. Suddenly they’re swept into a mini soccer match with five kids, two puppies, and one kitten who keeps chasing the ball in circles.

The game is chaos. Pure chaos. But fun nevertheless.

Jaehee shows off a little—fancy footwork, quick turns. He even dribbles past two kids just to hear them squeal. But when one of them lunges at his legs, he lets the ball slip away with an exaggerated gasp.

“Oh no! He stole it from me!”

The kids scream in triumph. Yushi laughs, like actually laughs, while watching Jaehee flail dramatically.

When the ball comes his way, Yushi tries to mimic him. He dribbles slowly, eyes focused. His tail swishes in concentration. Jaehee thinks he does it better than Jaehee himself. And when a girl barely taller than his knees steals the ball, he gasps too, all serious.

“Thief,” he mutters, making the kids giggle.

Jaehee claps from the side. “Good defense, hyung, good defense!”

But then Yushi gets his chance again. The ball rolls right at him, and this time he kicks a little harder. It sails across the grass and lands perfectly between two little jackets acting as goalposts.

“Goal!” a puppy hybrid yells.

The kids erupt in cheers. Yushi’s tail shoots straight up, ears perked high. He beams.

Jaehee, on the other note, doesn’t even think. His legs just move and run straight at Yushi, scoops him up under the arms, and spins him in the air like he just scored in the finals.

“Yeah, Yushi hyung!!” Jaehee yells, grinning ear to ear.

The kids go wild as they chant Yushi’s name, clapping and bouncing around them. A full-blown celebration.

Jaehee’s too lost in the moment to notice how Yushi has gone still in his arms. His ears are flattened and his smile is awkward as he looks down on Jaehee.

He freezes mid-spin, realizing what he’s done. Oh, shit.

He sets Yushi down quickly, scratching at the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “Uh… sorry. Got a little too excited there.”

Yushi just gives him that tiny, crooked smile again. 

Jaehee feels like the biggest idiot alive.

Moments later, they sit on a bench with ice creams in their hands, the late afternoon sun warm against their skin. Jaehee is distracted, eyes darting everywhere—kids running with balloons, a couple sharing cotton candy, a mother pushing her baby’s stroller.

He doesn’t even notice Yushi has gone quiet until he turns his head. His brows lift in surprise to find the older’s eyes on him.

“Hyung…?”

Yushi doesn’t look away. His gaze lingers, as he lazily licks his ice cream. He only shakes his head.

The silence stretches. Jaehee wants to stare back, but Yushi’s eyes hold too much weight and challenge for him to do so. He bites his lip and looks away, pretending to focus on the swirl of vanilla in his cup.

“Do you want to touch my tail? And ears?”

Jaehee nearly chokes, coughing into his fist. He wheezes even harder when he feels Yushi’s gentle pats against his back.

“S-Shit—wait, what—”

“You were pretty obvious.” Yushi shrugs, taking a big lick of his ice cream.

Jaehee mentally facepalms, cheeks burning. “I’m sorry. That’s… weird, isn’t it?”

“At first, maybe,” Yushi hums. “But I don’t mind anymore.” He stares a second too long, the corner of his lips quirking before he adds, sassier this time, “So. You want to touch or not?”

Jaehee dumbly nods, throat dry.

“Okay, then.”

“W–Wait—right now?!” Jaehee squeaks, eyes wide. 

The hybrid leans just a little closer, tilting his head so one of his soft ears flicks forward. “Why not now?”

Jaehee freezes. His mind screams no, no, no but his fingers itch so badly that they twitch against his thigh. “B-Because—because people—”

“People aren’t even looking at us,” Yushi says, voice almost teasing. He takes another deliberate lick of his ice cream, ears flicking again. “Unless you don’t want to, then it’s okay too.”

That does it. Jaehee blurts, “Of course I want to!” a little too loudly, startling a toddler walking past with a balloon. He immediately shrinks back, whispering now, “I mean...”

Yushi only smirks. “Then prove it.”

Jaehee swallows. His hand trembles as he reaches out, heart pounding so loud he swears the entire park can hear it. His fingertips brush the soft fur of Yushi’s ear—and his breath catches instantly. 

“Oh my god,” he whispers. “It’s… so soft.”

Yushi bursts out laughing, ears flicking back as his tail swishes behind him. “You sound funny.”

“I—shut up,” Jaehee mumbles, face burning. But he can’t stop. He gently rubs the ear between his fingers, so careful it makes Yushi’s cheeks tint pink too.

The hybrid tilts his head into the touch, eyes fluttering just slightly as he’s hiding back the instinct to purr. “See? Not so bad, huh?”

Jaehee swears his chest is going to explode. He hurriedly pulls his hand back, nearly dropping his ice cream in the process. “O-Okay, I did it! Done! That’s it!”

Yushi blinks at him, then grins mischievously. “What about my tail?”

“What about your tail?!” Jaehee sputters, voice breaking. “No, no, that’s too— that’s—”

But Yushi has already flicked it forward, the fluffy thing curling around Jaehee’s wrist like a ribbon. Jaehee freezes, eyes darting to the soft fur wrapped around him.

“You like it,” Yushi says, smirking like he just won the world’s biggest game.

Jaehee makes a strangled noise, face redder than a tomato. “I—I don’t—shut up, hyung!”

Yushi only laughs again, the sound bright and airy as his tail playfully squeezes once before slipping away. “You’re so easy to tease, Jaehee.”

Jaehee buries his face in his hands, groaning. “You’re ridiculous. I don’t like this.”

“No, you do,” Yushi singsongs, leaning just close enough that Jaehee peeks through his fingers—and instantly regrets it when he sees Yushi grinning at him with those damn sparkling eyes.

Jaehee sighs, defeated. Yeah, he’s completely screwed.

He’s going to have a stroke soon with how frequent he’s been getting violent with his reactions. All because of a certain someone. 

-

It’s Thursday afternoon, and the music room is bathed in sunlight through the tall windows. Jaehee sits at the grand piano tucked against the wall, fingers gliding carefully over the keys as he works through a new song. His notebook lies open beside him, a few messy bars of music scribbled down. He hums along, correcting himself when he misses a note, determined to get the melody right before calling it a day.

The room is quiet except for the music—until the sharp buzz of his phone interrupts. Jaehee pauses, pulling it out from his pocket, only to see Mom flashing across the screen. He exhales, shoulders slumping a little, but he answers anyway.

“Hey, Mom.”

Her voice comes bright and familiar through the line. “Hey yourself. Done with class already? Don’t tell me you skipped.”

Jaehee huffs a laugh. “I didn’t skip. I’m practicing now.”

“Good. Have you eaten?” she asks instantly.

Jaehee leans back, eyes flicking briefly toward the window. Lowering his voice without thinking, he replies, “Yeah, I ate.”

The conversation drifts into the usual family updates. His mother rambles about what his brothers are up to, how his father has been going out almost every day with his retired friends, and how she’s been left alone by all the men in the house. “Sometimes I think I should’ve given birth to a girl instead of all boys,” she sighs.

Jaehee laughs, leaning into the phone, replying to each point with practiced ease. It feels surprisingly… calm. Weirdly calm. Usually, he and his mom are butting heads, her nagging in one ear while he protests in the other. But today, her tone is softer, almost gentle. 

It’s nice, actually. Nice in a way that makes his chest ache a little. 

Until he realizes why she’s not yelling. And suddenly, his stomach twists so hard it nearly flips. 

“Your father and I are on the way to your house, by the way.” 

“What?!” Jaehee nearly shouts, shooting up straight from the bench. His sheet music slides off the piano with a pathetic flutter.

“Why do you sound so surprised, son?I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn’t want to disturb your schedules,” his mother says casually. He can practically imagine her shaking her head, as if he’s the ridiculous one here.

“But you could’ve texted—“

“You know very well the last time you replied to my text was three months ago, right?”

Jaehee winces, shoving his notebook into his bag. “How long do I have till you get here?” 

He’s already standing, already packing his things with clumsy hands, panic climbing up his throat. 

“One hour max? Is it honey?” His mother seems to turn toward his father. “Yeah, an hour. Get home fast.”

One hour? 

Jaehee freezes mid-step, his bag hanging off one shoulder.

Yushi. 

His eyes widen, “A-alright, see you later.” He hangs up without waiting for her reply, bolts out of the music room, and practically sprints across campus toward the parking lot. 

By the time he slams into his car, his pulse is racing so hard it’s echoing in his ears. He starts the engine, gripping the wheel tight. 

He can’t believe this. Why now? Why out of all days do his parents decide to visit today? He would’ve taken it better if they’d come a month ago, before Yushi existed in his life. But now… Now, he has a cat hybrid curled up in his living room, someone no one in his family even knows about. 

Except for Sion and Riku. And maybe some nosy neighbors. That’s it.

Not his brothers and definitely not his parents.

TThe traffic light blinks red, forcing him to stop. Jaehee slams his forehead against the steering wheel, groaning. “Think, think, think!” he mutters, hitting the wheel again as if it’ll knock an idea loose. 

Shit, he can’t think! 

What is he supposed to say? Oh hey Mom, Dad, surprise, I’ve been living with a hybrid for weeks and forgot to mention it? His brothers might shrug it off, might even tease him about it. But his parents… God, he doesn’t even know what his parents will say. Sion was right—he’s still a student. Still figuring his own life out. What business does he have hiding a hybrid in his house like this? 

He’s been hiding this fact for everyone’s sake… or maybe for himself but who cares! 

The light changes to green. Jaehee exhales shakily, presses his foot on the pedal, and speeds off again. 

As soon as Jaehee parks his car, he glances at the watch strapped to his wrist. Forty minutes left. Just enough time to breathe; if only he weren’t already suffocating. He doesn’t waste a second, grabbing his bag and hurrying to the front door. He pushes open the door in a rush—only to nearly collide with Yushi. The older stands right there, hand hovering like he’d been about to open the door for him after hearing the car. 

Jaehee stumbles to a halt, chest tightening at the sight. Yushi’s smile is small, hesitant, but warm in the way it always is. “Hyung.”

Yushi offers him a small, awkward smile and scratch his head. “Hi.”

Usually, he would already have the urge to pull Yushi close—to bury his nose in his shoulder, the cute aggression of wanting the older man’s presence. But today isn’t like any other day. His parents are coming. His parents, who absolutely knows nothing. His parents, who would ask too many questions. His parents, who could destroy everything if he made the wrong move. 

The smile dies on his lips. 

Yushi tilts his head, watching him with expectant eyes, as if waiting for Jaehee to say something but Jaehee’s throat feels too tight. How does he even explain this? He can’t risk it. Not when the smallest slip could cost him everything he has with Yushi. 

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hyung, my parents are coming in, like, thirty minutes. Can you—uh—can you stay in the guest room until they leave? Haha…?”

The forced laugh dies instantly. 

Yushi raises an eyebrow. “Uh…?”

Jaehee squeezes his eyes shut, words spilling before he can think. “I’m sorry. They don’t know you’ve been staying with me.” 

“Oh.”

The single syllable is quiet, too soft. Jaehee opens one eye, just enough to check Yushi’s face. But the hybrid’s gaze is no longer on him—it’s fixed somewhere far away, expression unreadable before he replies, “…Okay.”

Jaehee hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until it rushes out in a shaky exhale. “Thank you so much, hyung! I’ll—I’ll treat you to something delicious later, I promise—“

But Yushi isn’t listening. His back is already to him, steps quick and quiet as he heads down the hall. Jaehee opens his mouth to say more, to fix it somehow, but the guest room door shuts with a muted click. 

Jaehee stands frozen in the entryway, bag slipping off his shoulder.

What…?

Unfortunately, Jaehee doesn’t have the luxury to dwell on the way Yushi disappears into the guest room without another word. He pushes down the foreign stings in his chest. He’ll figure it out later. 

He scans the living room, eyes catching on every trace of Yushi’s presence. The folded blanket on the couch, smelling faintly of lavender and fur. The mug on the coffee table, still with a ring of milk at the bottom. Even the faint indent on the cushion where Yushi must’ve been sitting earlier.

“Shit,” Jaehee mutters under his breath as he sweeps everything into his arms. He stuffs the blanket into the closet, rushes to rinse the mug in the sink, and fluffs the cushions as if they’ve never been touched. 

By the time he’s done, his heart is beating too fast, sweat prickling at the back of his neck. And then—

Ding dong.

The doorbell slices through the air, and Jaehee nearly jumps out of his skin. It feels like his soul leaves his body. His gaze snaps instantly to the guest room door. Still locked. Still silent. He swallows hard, forcing down the panic clawing up his throat.

“Okay… okay,” he whispers to himself, dragging his fingers through his hair before plastering on the best smile he can manage.

With one last, resigned sigh, Jaehee turns toward the front door and pulls it open. 

His mother’s voice barrels in before he can even greet her. 

“Jaehee-ya, why is the car so dirty?!” she gasps, stepping inside with her bag slung neatly on her arm. “Have you been adventurous or what? Your Jaehyun hyung would be angry if he saw that!”

Jaehee wants to argue; his Jaehyun hyung absolutely wouldn’t care about a little dirt on the car, but he knows better. So he just laughs weakly, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’ve just been busy, Mom.”

Before his mother can scold further, his father steps forward and pulls Jaehee into a firm embrace. “It’s good to see you, son.”

The warmth grounds him for a second, enough that he allows himself to smile genuinely and hug back. “You too, Dad.”

But peace never lasts long.

Because the moment his mother steps further into the house, her eyes sharpen like a hawk. “Mm? Whose shoes are those?”

Jaehee freezes.

His mother tilts her head, crouching down to look closer at the pair shoved against the wall near the entryway. “Not yours, right? Why is it so dirty, darling?”

Blood drains from his face. He knows exactly whose shoes they are. Yushi’s. From the very first day he arrived, when he came with dirts all over him. Jaehee was so preoccupied with cleaning the living room he forgot the one thing that screams someone else is living here.

And of course, his mother isn’t finished. “This is not your size either.” She straightens, arms crossed. “I’m guessing it’s your friend’s? Why is he leaving it here?”

Jaehee swallows, feeling his pulse hammering against his throat. “Uh… forgot about it maybe…” he says quickly. His laugh follows right after, airy and nervous.

His mother narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t press.

Jaehee forces his lips into a smile, but inside, his stomach coils tighter and tighter. 

Thankfully, the rest of the visit goes smoother than Jaehee expects. His mother eventually lets the shoe situation go, slipping into more harmless chatter as she moves through the living room. She picks apart his choice of curtains, comments on the lighting, and clucks her tongue at the dust on the windowsill, but at least it isn’t about suspicious strangers in his house.

They end up gathered on the couch, and the mood slowly shifts into something warmer. His father asks about his classes, what projects he’s working on, and whether he’s eating well.

Jaehee talks about school, the new band song he’s been practicing, and soccer training. He feels lighter the more he shares, though that doesn’t save him from his father flicking the back of his head when he admits he hasn’t been picking up calls.

“Ow—Dad!”

“You don’t ignore your parents, got it?” 

“Got it, got it.” Jaehee rubs the spot and grumbles, but deep down, relief floods him. This… this normal nagging is a thousand times better than being interrogated about something related to Yushi.

For a little while, everything feels safe again. His mother is laughing, his father is relaxed, and Jaehee almost believes he’s in the clear.

Until his father leans back, pats the couch cushions absentmindedly, and says, “Where’s the remote?”

Jaehee doesn’t think much about it as he too, looks for it—until his father’s hand pulls something out from between the cushions.

Instead of a remote, his father is holding a phone.

“Isn’t this your old phone, Jaehee-ya?” his father asks curiously, turning it over in his hand.

He stiffens, quickly nodding. “Yeah, it is—let me take that—” He reaches for it, but his father has already pressed the power button.

The screen lights up.

His father tilts his head, frowning slightly. “You put your own picture as your lockscreen?”

“What?” Jaehee blurts out, his chest tightening.

When his father hands him the phone, Jaehee sees it with his own eyes. The lockscreen isn’t just any photo. It’s a candid of him—taken from behind. His broad shoulder, his profile slightly visible, and from the background, he knows exactly when it was. It was from the day he took Yushi shopping.

Yushi… has Jaehee as his lockscreen.

His ears burn hot, and he swallows hard. “…Yeah.”

His mother snorts lightly. “Just like your father. Always so full of himself.”

They laugh. Jaehee does too, weakly, but inside, his pulse is a frantic mess. 

Just when he thinks nothing can get worse than that, his mother suddenly stands and says, “I’m going to use the toilet.”

His blood runs cold immediately.

The toilet. Which means she has to pass the guest room. The very room Yushi is in right now.

Jaehee nearly drops dead on the spot, but he forces himself to smile, nodding politely. “It’s right down the hall, Mom.”

He watches as she walks past the living room. Then, like a nightmare come true, she slows her steps. Her gaze lingers on the guest room door. Her hand reaches for the knob.

Jaehee almost screams.

“Why is it locked, Jaehee-ya?” she asks, already jiggling the handle. “Who locks a guest room in their own house? What are you hiding in here?”

Panic flares hot in his chest. He bolts forward so fast his father blinks at him from the couch. “Uh—it’s broken! The lock! Yeah, it’s jammed, I lost the key!” He plants himself firmly in front of the door, heart hammering.

His mother turns, eyebrows arched, clearly unconvinced. “Broken?” she repeats, voice dripping with suspicion.

“Yes, broken!” Jaehee insists, his laugh embarrassingly high-pitched. “You know how cheap the door is. Totally useless. Can’t open it at all. See?” He rattles the knob for good measure and prays Yushi doesn’t make a single sound from the other side.

For a second, her sharp eyes pin him like a criminal under interrogation. Jaehee swears she can hear the pounding of his heart.

Then she shakes her head. “Get it fixed later. I’ll wire some money.”

Relief nearly knocks him off his feet. “Of course, Mom,” he says quickly, bowing his head like a guilty student caught lying.

She hums and finally walks away, muttering something about how boys never know how to take care of a house.

Jaehee stays rooted to the spot for a moment longer, palm pressed against the wood of the guest room door, silently begging Yushi to stay quiet.

Only when he hears the bathroom door click shut does he allow himself to breathe again.

He feels like ten years of his lifespan just evaporated.

By the time his parents finally gather their things, Jaehee feels like jumping in the air. 

His parents press a kiss to his cheek, exchange I love yous, and wave as they step out the door. Jaehee replies automatically, “Love you too,” but his smile is tight, not quite reaching his eyes. He keeps it plastered on until the car drives away and disappears down the street.

The instant the silence settles back into the house, he slams the door shut and bolts down the hall.

Three hours. Yushi has been shut in that room for three whole hours. Alone.

Jaehee wants to curl up and die.

He stops in front of the guest room and knocks gently, voice small. “Hyung?”

No answer.

He swallows, knocks again, softer this time, like he’s afraid of scaring him further. “Yushi hyung?”

A quiet click sounds from the other side. The lock turns. But the door doesn’t open. Heart twisting, Jaehee pushes it open himself.

The sight makes him freeze on the doorway.

Yushi is on the bed, curled up as though he’s trying to make himself disappear. His back is to Jaehee, his tail tucked tightly around him. His ears—usually twitching with curiosity or alertness—droop low, lifeless against his head.

Jaehee’s chest aches so sharply it almost hurts to breathe.

“Hyung…” he tries again, voice barely above a whisper. He takes a careful step closer, like the floorboards might betray him if he’s too loud. “I’m sorry. You must’ve been so bored in here. I didn’t mean to…”

But Yushi doesn’t move. His ears don't twitch at Jaehee’s words either.

Jaehee hovers beside the bed, fingers flexing at his sides. He wants—no, aches—to reach out, to smooth a hand over Yushi’s shoulder or brush down his soft hair, but he doesn’t dare. Not when they’re still… whatever this is. Friends, maybe. If Yushi even counts him as one.

So instead, he lowers himself onto the edge of the mattress, careful not to let the bed dip too much. His shoulders slump instantly, the weight of his guilt dragging him down. He stares at his hands, twisting them together, waiting for anything—a glance, a sigh, a word.

Nothing.

The silence presses heavy around them, louder than the muffled noise from the television in the living room. Jaehee swallows hard, forcing a shaky laugh that dies in his throat.

If he had puppy ears, they’d be drooping low, brushing against his cheeks by now. He feels exactly like a sad dog left at the door, waiting for its owner to finally come home.

He risks another glance at Yushi’s back, curls tighter than ever. His chest squeezes.

“…I’ll just sit here,” Jaehee murmurs, voice so small it’s almost embarrassing. “Even if you don’t wanna talk to me.”

And he does. He stays, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the older’s outline. Quietly waiting.

The silence grows louder the longer it lasts, a steady thrum in Jaehee’s ears that makes his stomach twist. He shifts on the mattress, restless, but even that feels too loud in the heavy air. Jaehee’s nails press crescents into his palms. He wants to say something, anything—but the words sound pathetic in his head. I’m sorry. Too small. I didn’t mean to. Too cowardly. I was scared. Too selfish.

He chews the inside of his cheek, blurting in a rush, “…I didn’t want to lock you away, hyung. I swear, I didn’t.” His voice cracks halfway through, shaky with nerves. “If I could’ve done anything else, I— I would’ve.”

Still nothing.

Jaehee lowers his gaze to his lap, shoulders slumping.

Seconds tick by. Maybe minutes. It’s torture.

And then, finally, finally Yushi shifts. Just barely, a turn of his head so Jaehee can see a sliver of his profile. His eyes stay lowered, half-hidden by his lashes, but it’s enough to show the heaviness there.

For a long moment, Yushi says nothing. The silence stretches thin, and Jaehee thinks maybe it’ll snap and leave him with nothing at all.

Then, so soft Jaehee almost doesn’t catch it, Yushi mutters into the blanket, “…I don’t like it.”

“What?”

Yushi’s shoulders rise and fall with a quiet, frustrated breath. His ears stay low, pressed against his head. “Being left alone. I don’t like it.”

The words hit Jaehee like a punch to the gut. His own voice comes out rough, guilty, “I know. I’m sorry, hyung. I should’ve—I should’ve thought of that first.”

But Yushi doesn’t reply, curling back into himself, as if retreating from the weight of his own confession.

Jaehee swallows hard and stays where he is, hands clenching in his lap. The silence is heavy, pressing down on both of them until Jaehee can’t take it anymore. 

“Hyung… do you want me to leave you alone?”

He braces himself for the silence again, for nothing but the sound of Yushi’s steady breathing, for the rejection that will split him in half.

But this time, he gets an answer.

“…No. Stay.”

Jaehee’s throat closes up, the relief hitting so hard his eyes sting. His heart swells and aches all at once, and he has to bite down on his lip to keep himself from outright crying.

“O-okay,” he whispers, voice cracking just slightly. He settles back into place, like he’s ready to wait as long as it takes. 

Of course.

At some point, exhaustion drags him under. Jaehee doesn’t even notice when his body slumps against the headboard, head tilted slightly, arms resting limply at his sides. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep—he’d promised himself he would stay awake, stay present, stay here for Yushi. But after a full day of classes, hours at piano practice, and the unexpected drain of his parents’ visit, his body gives out.

What pulls him back is the faintest brush of warmth curling around his wrist. At first, in that half-asleep haze, he thinks it’s a blanket slipping down. But then he stirs, eyes fluttering open, and the first thing he sees is Yushi—sitting upright now, closer than before. His tail is curled lightly around Jaehee’s wrist. 

Jaehee’s heart stutters, and suddenly he doesn’t know what to do with his own hands. Yushi is watching him. He always looks at Jaehee like that; steady, intent, as if Jaehee is something fragile in his hands, but Jaehee doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t think he’ll ever figure it out.

He swallows hard, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “Hyung, I’m sorry—”

But Yushi shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”

Jaehee’s throat closes up. The guilt doesn’t ease, but there’s something else too—a tremor of relief, of wanting so badly to understand what Yushi does want from him.

“I get why you do that. But still… isn’t it a bit mean for you to do that to me without warning?” Yushi says at last.

Jaehee’s lips press into a thin line. “I know… I would hate that too if I were in your place. I’m sorry.”

“I said no apologies!” The older suddenly snaps, his tail flicking forward with precision and smacking Jaehee straight across the cheek.

“Yah—!” Jaehee yelps, jerking back with wide eyes, his hand flying up to cover the spot.

“You deserved that,” Yushi says flatly, but there’s the faintest curl of amusement tugging at his lips. His ears twitch, betraying him.

For a moment, Jaehee just stares—then lets out a helpless laugh, the heaviness in his chest unraveling. “Yes, yes, I do.”

But Yushi isn’t done. He narrows his eyes playfully, tail swishing behind him like a whip, and smacks Jaehee again across the chin. “This one’s for falling asleep. Hmph.”

“Ow—!” Jaehee whines. “It poked my eye, hyung!”

“Serve you right.” Yushi sticks his tongue out. His tail flicks threateningly again, daring Jaehee to keep complaining.

The younger squints at him, trying to glare, but the grin tugging at his lips betrays him. He leans back a little, hands raised in surrender. “Fine, fine, I’ll take my punishment. But you’re vicious, you know that?”

Yushi only rolls his eyes, tail flicking lazily, before his nose scrunches up in the most exaggerated glare. His brows knit together, ears angled forward, lips twitching like he’s trying too hard to look angry but ends up just looking… adorable.

Jaehee blinks at him, startled, then bursts into laughter. “Silly hyung.”

“It’s my angry face,” Yushi insists, scrunching harder, leaning in so close that their foreheads bump.

“Oh, really?” Jaehee leans forward as well, fighting back his grin. “You call that scary?” He wrinkles his own nose, mirroring the expression, until they’re practically pressed together—two idiots making faces in the dim light.

They hold it for all of three seconds before it crumbles. Jaehee’s laughter escapes first, shaky and uncontrollable, while Yushi tries to keep his scowl but ends up grinning, sharp teeth peeking through. Their foreheads stay touching, though, even as they laugh into each other’s breath.

“God, hyung,” Jaehee manages between laughs, “you’re ridiculous.”

“You copied me first!” Yushi shoots back, grinning so wide it almost hurts to look at. His tail swishes happily behind him, betraying the playfulness in his voice.

Jaehee chuckles again, softer now, warmth blooming in his chest. His cheeks ache from smiling, but he doesn’t mind. For the first time all day, the knot of worry in him has eased—because Yushi is laughing too, because Yushi is here.

-

The kitchen smells faintly of sugar and butter, the oven humming in the background as Jaehee leans over the counter, dusting flour across the dough he’s trying to roll out. Yushi stands beside him, ears twitching, eyes sharp with focus as if kneading is a competition.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Yushi mutters, tail flicking against Jaehee’s hip.

Jaehee puffs his cheeks. “Excuse me, I’ve baked plenty of times. I know what I’m doing.”

“You say that,” Yushi replies flatly, reaching over and fixing the fold in one smooth motion, “but you keep looking at the recipe from your phone.”

“God forbid I can’t remember them all, okay?” 

“Just admit you’re bad at it. It’s okay, Jaehee!” 

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

They’re still bickering when a knock echoes through the apartment, followed by a familiar voice.

“Jaehee! We’re here!” Riku’s cheerful tone carries through the door.

Yushi’s ears twitch. Jaehee glances at him. “Already? I thought they’d text first.”

“They never do,” Yushi mutters, though he doesn’t sound upset. If anything, there’s a subtle mix of anticipation and restraint.

Since Yushi moved in, Riku has made a habit of visiting every so often. It’s not just to see Jaehee anymore as his favourite little dongsaeng, because Riku seems genuinely fond of Yushi now, and to Jaehee’s quiet amusement, Yushi has warmed up to him too. They’ll end up talking on the couch, or Riku will sit with Yushi while he doodles. The bond between them has become natural in a way Jaehee never expected.

Sion, though, is different. Yushi still carries the impression that Sion dislikes him after their prickly first meeting. So when the door swings open and both Riku and Sion step in, Yushi instinctively straightens his posture, tail curling closer around his leg, though he tries to make it as subtle as he can.

Riku’s eyes immediately land on the counter. “You’re baking? Without me?” He sounds personally betrayed as he bounds into the kitchen, already reaching for the mixing bowl.

Meanwhile, Yushi lets out the quietest huff and mutters, “Unhygienic.” 

The kitchen quickly becomes too crowded for its size, but Riku doesn’t seem to notice. Jaehee doesn’t even know how he let Riku convince him this was a good idea, but now flour, sugar, and mixing bowls clutter the counters while Riku hums happily beside Yushi.

Riku’s ears flick as he leans over Yushi’s shoulder. “You’re rolling it too flat. The cookies won’t rise.”

Yushi’s ears flatten. His hands pause on the rolling pin. “Do you want to do it?”

“Nooo, you’re doing great, honey,” Riku says with a toothy grin, tail flicking with amusement. He reaches over anyway to poke the dough, earning himself a sharp look.

“Riku, leave him alone.”

Riku blinks. Then a slow grin spreads across his face, and he tilts his head at Sion. “Did you hear that?” He singsongs. “He’s defending him.”

Sion chuckles under his breath. “I heard. Very protective.”

“Protective,” Riku repeats dramatically, nudging Jaehee with his elbow. “Ooohh~~ Jaehee~~ So grown up now, huh?”

Jaehee groans, heat rushing to his ears. “You two are insufferable.”

It seems to hit Yushi as well because the hybrid looks like he wants the floor to swallow him whole. His ears twitch violently, tail swishing before he turns his back and mutters, “Annoying.”

The laughter that follows doesn’t make things any easier, but the kitchen soon softens into a rhythm. Flour dusts the air, spoons clink against bowls, and the smell of butter warms the space.

At one point, Jaehee catches Riku pressing a quick kiss to Sion’s cheek when he thinks no one is looking. Sion’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t comment. Later, Sion leans down as Riku’s tail brushes past him, pressing a sneaky kiss to the top of his head. Riku replies with a mischievous expression, ears shooting up, before melting against him with the kind of grin that makes Jaehee’s chest ache from secondhand affection.

They move like they’re in their own world, laughing at their private jokes, bumping shoulders, Riku trying to feed Sion bits of dough while Sion pretends to resist but accepts anyway.

Jaehee watches, the fondness blooming in his chest almost overwhelming. He doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until he glances sideways and finds Yushi watching them too.

The hybrid’s expression is quiet, softer than usual, though his ears dip low in thought. His hair is sprinkled with flour, his cheek smudged where Riku must have accidentally brushed against him. His kittenish eyes linger on the couple before they shift to Jaehee.

The breath leaves Jaehee’s lungs.

Yushi’s gaze holds steady, unblinking, and something about it makes Jaehee’s pulse stumble. There’s no teasing smirk this time, no guarded irritation—just a look so open it makes Jaehee’s throat dry. He looks… beautiful like this. Flour-dusted, hair a little messy, his tail curling loosely behind him as if he doesn’t even realize it.

Jaehee wants to say something but his tongue is heavy. 

And as if on cue, both of them look away at the same time, pretending to fuss with their own tasks. 

Just like that, Jaehee doesn’t know what happens to the rest of the day.

One moment they’re elbow-deep in flour and the next, all four of them are sitting around the coffee table with plates of warm cookies stacked between them. It’s quiet except for the crunch of the first bite.

“Oh! These are actually good,” Riku beams.

“Surprisingly good,” Sion corrects with a faint smile, reaching for another.

Jaehee rolls his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “Quit it. We’re not gonna do this again in the future.”

“What a shame,” Riku says, nibbling the cookies with smaller bites.

They fall into easy chatter. Sion starts rambling about his corporate life, though it’s more about how draining it is than anything else. Riku cuts him off halfway through and pulls out his phone with a grin.

“Forget work. Look at my kids.”

He turns the screen toward them, and Jaehee blinks at the photo. A small boy and a puppy hybrid are hugging each other tightly, cheeks squished together in the kind of grin that could melt anyone. “They’re my favorite students.”

Yushi snorts from beside Jaehee. “Biased.”

Riku sticks his tongue out. “So what if I am?”

“…What’s their name?” Yushi asks, trying to feign nonchalance but failing miserably. His ears twitch with interest, and his tail betrays him with a small flick.

Jaehee hides a smile. It reminds him of the soccer game at the park—the way Yushi had been hesitant and pretended not to care, only to get swept up by the laughter of children until he was smiling like one himself.

“Sakuya and the pup is Ryo,” Riku explains, scrolling to another photo and shoving it toward Yushi, who leans in despite himself. “Cute, right?”

Yushi makes a low sound in his throat that could mean anything, but the softness in his expression is answer enough.

The conversation flows from there—about Sion’s never-ending meetings, about Riku’s kindergarten antics, about random things Jaehee barely remembers afterward. Sometimes he listens, sometimes his thoughts drift, but through it all, Yushi stays beside him.

At some point, Yushi shifts closer. So close their shoulders brush. It’s a light touch, nothing really—but Jaehee feels it in every nerve ending, his heartbeat kicking up like it’s something scandalous. Yushi doesn’t move away. Neither does he.

By the time Sion and Riku are slipping their shoes on, the sun has already started to dip. Riku hugs Jaehee quickly, chirping, “Take care, alright? And feed Yushi well!” before bounding out the door.

Sion lingers. He pulls Jaehee into a hug and whispers against his ear. “You’re so obvious, Jaehee.”

Jaehee’s hand weakly punches Sion’s chest when they part, face hot. “Shut up.”

Sion only grins knowingly before following his boyfriend out.

And then the house is quiet again.

Jaehee stays frozen at the door for a long moment, his heart hammering against his ribs. He doesn’t even know what to call the feeling rising inside him. But he knows one thing—

Sion’s right.

He might’ve realized something today, and he has no idea what to do with it.

He’s in love with Yushi. 

Yushi, who is quietly moving around the kitchen, picking up crumbs from the table, tucking away empty plates, humming softly under his breath. It makes Jaehee pause mid-step, just watching.

The hybrid suddenly turns his head, catching Jaehee’s eyes. “Why are you staring?”

Jaehee blinks, caught off guard, and scratches the back of his neck. He swallows, searching for words that won’t make him sound too obvious. “Just… because,” he says softly.

Yushi tilts his head, clearly unsatisfied but letting it slide. His eyes sparkle in that kittenish way, and he crouches slightly to pick up a stray napkin. “Did you have fun today?”

The younger hesitates, his chest tightening at how earnest the question sounds, how small and real Yushi’s presence feels. He forces a smile. “Yeah… I did. Did you?”

Yushi nods eagerly, almost bouncing in his step. “I wish we could have them around every day.”

Jaehee feels something stir in his chest at that. He doesn’t know why it comes out, but the words escape before he can think twice. 

“Well… I can do all that with you too. All the time.”

The silence that follows is strange, not tense but a little disorienting. Yushi looks at him with wide eyes, tail flicking ever so slightly, clearly processing.

Panicking internally, Jaehee scrambles for an excuse. “Uh… I’m gonna go to sleep now.”

“It’s only 8 pm.”

He laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck again. “Yeah… I know.” He takes a step back, trying to regain composure, and then turns toward his room, heart thudding faster than it should.

Behind him, Yushi resumes tidying quietly, eyes occasionally drifting toward Jaehee, as if he’s already decided not to make a fuss about the strange, fluttering tension that just hung between them.

Astonishingly, Jaehee falls asleep the moment he slips into his fresh clothes after a warm bath. The soft sheets cradle him, and his mind drifts effortlessly into a deep slumber.

But the quiet of the night is broken by the faintest creak of the door, followed by the tiniest steps that reach his room. Jaehee, usually a heavy sleeper, stirs immediately. He doesn’t know why he’s so alert lately—maybe it’s the subtle bond forming with Yushi, or perhaps a quiet fear that the hybrid might leave without saying goodbye.

“…Jaehee?” Comes a small voice. 

“Hm?” Jaehee murmurs, rubbing his eyes. Only the lamp by the bed casts a dim glow, making it hard to read Yushi’s expression.

“…Jaehee.” 

“Yes, hyung? Is everything alright?” Jaehee asks groggily.

He hears a shuffle, the subtle brush of movement on the floor, and then Yushi edges closer to the bed. There’s a pause, and then the words come out softer. “…Can I sleep here?”

If Jaehee thinks he’s still in the sleeping haze earlier, then he’s completely awake now. He blinks in the dim light, unsure if he’s indeed dreaming. “Can you… repeat that?”

This time, Yushi’s tail brushes lightly against the sheets, a nervous swish, betraying his unease. “…Can I sleep here tonight? With you?”

Jaehee’s heart stutters. The quiet intimacy of the request, the vulnerability in Yushi’s voice, almost like he has braced himself for a rejection. “Of course… you can,” he whispers, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips.

Yushi doesn’t speak again. Instead, he climbs onto the bed with careful movements, curling up beside Jaehee. The soft brush of his fur against Jaehee’s arm along with the quiet warmth of his body.

The room is quiet, save for the soft rhythm of their breathing and the faint hum of the city beyond the window. Jaehee lays on his bed quietly, still in the same position he slept earlier. He tells himself not to make this a big deal, even though inside he’s literally panicking. His heart races, ears buzzing as his thoughts trip over themselves. He’s actually here. Yushi wants to be here. With him.

The hybrid shifts slightly, moving closer, and then he tilts his face toward him. “Hi,” he says quietly.

Jaehee feels his chest tighten in a strange, pleasant way. He turns his body fully toward Yushi, mirroring his movements without startling him. “Hi, hyung.”

They stare at each other, and for a moment, Jaehee feels like he could slip back into sleep right there, content with the closeness. But then Yushi speaks again, and the calm tension breaks gently.

“You never tell me about your family,” he says.

Jaehee blinks, surprised. “You never ask,” he mutters softly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Tell me.”

“Well… I’m the youngest in my family,” he starts, a small laugh escaping him. “My brothers… they all love teasing me, and I’ve been the baby for as long as I can remember. They dote on me, even when I don’t want it. My hyungs are all settled down with their partners… and yeah, they’re hybrids.” 

“That’s nice,” Yushi says.

“It is! As for my mother… well, her love language is basically nagging me till dawn. She’ll scold me for not calling, for sleeping too much, for practically everything. And my father… he’s more laid-back, but he always makes sure we know he’s proud of us.”

He pauses, watching Yushi’s expression. The older hybrid’s ears tilt slightly, eyes soft, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. He’s listening.

“We’re a bit… strict, I guess. No smoking, no tattoos,” he adds, chuckling. “My brothers tease me endlessly if I even think about stepping out of line, but I think… it’s all because they care. Not like I even dare to try it out or anything. But they’re just built like that, yeah.”

Yushi lets out a quiet chuckle, and Jaehee feels warmth spread through his chest. “You’re lucky,” Yushi says softly, almost to himself.

Jaehee glances at him, smiling gently. “What about you, hyung?”

Yushi hesitates, his gaze falling to the bed sheets for a moment before returning to Jaehee’s eyes. “…I don’t know where they are.”

The weight of that silence presses against Jaehee’s chest, but he forces himself not to let it grow heavy. Quietly, he reaches out, brushing his fingers against Yushi’s hand. Yushi doesn’t pull away so Jaehee curls his thumb over Yushi’s skin, stroking gently.

“Since when?” Jaehee asks softly.

“…Since forever? I… I don’t know,” Yushi admits, eyes downcast. “I’ve been living with… well, masters since I was really small. I’ve changed masters more than ten, I think.”

Jaehee squeezes Yushi’s hand lightly, keeping his touch reassuring. “You don’t have to go back,” he whispers. “Not here. Not with me.”

Yushi glances up, meeting Jaehee’s eyes, and for a fleeting moment, the tension seems to lift. A small, almost shy smile forms on his lips. “I… I like it here,” he admits quietly.

Jaehee’s chest feels impossibly warm. He leans slightly closer, careful not to crowd him, but close enough that their shoulders touch. “Good,” he murmurs. “You can stay. As long as you want.”

Or forever. But Jaehee wouldn’t say that out loud.

For a long while, they sit in comfortable silence. The soft brush of their breaths, the warmth of their hands intertwined.

At some point, Yushi shifts slightly, and before Jaehee realizes it, he’s practically pressed against his chest. Jaehee’s arms wrap around him instinctively, but with a giddy rush that he struggles to hide. He can feel Yushi’s warmth seeping into his body, and the faint brush of ears against his cheek. 

“Is… is this okay?” Jaehee murmurs softly, trying not to make his voice too high.

Yushi only nuzzles a little closer, relaxing against Jaehee’s chest as if the hug is exactly what he’s been waiting for. “Mmm,” he hums, content.

Jaehee smiles despite himself, tightening the embrace just a fraction. He can feel the tip of Yushi’s ears brushing against his face, twitching slightly with the movement. His chest feels too full, his heart too fast. They stay like that for a while. Neither says anything, the only sounds being the soft rustle of sheets and the steady beat of Jaehee’s own heart. Then, after a long, almost heavy pause, Yushi’s voice cuts through.

“…Is it possible for me to hope?”

Jaehee makes a confused noise, tilting his head to look down at Yushi, though it’s hard to see his expression from this angle. He loosens the hug just a little, but Yushi presses closer, holding him tighter as if to make up for the slight distance.

“What do you mean?” Jaehee asks softly, his thumb brushing gently over Yushi’s hand.

Yushi exhales, a soft, almost fragile sound. His words are so small, Jaehee might think he misheard. “…Is it silly if I want us to be like Sion and Riku?”

Jaehee’s throat dries up as his mind stumbles over the words. “No,” he says after a moment, his voice trembling slightly with excitement and relief. “It’s… it’s not silly at all.”

Yushi relaxes just a little more at that, sighing softly. His tail flicks lazily against Jaehee’s side, and his fingers curl slightly around Jaehee’s wrist. “Really?” 

“Really,” Jaehee confirms, heart racing. He adjusts himself slightly, holding Yushi closer. “We can… we can try.”

The hybrid hums contently, closing his eyes for a brief moment, small, and vulnerable in a way that makes Jaehee’s chest ache with affection. He leans further into Jaehee’s embrace, the warmth of him perfectly weighted, and Jaehee can’t help the soft laugh that escapes him.

“You’re so… small, hyung.” Jaehee whispers, brushing his nose gently against the top of Yushi’s head. “You’re a hyung yet you’re so small.”

Yushi nuzzles him again, a quiet purr-like sound escaping as if to acknowledge the sentiment. “That just means you need to feed me better.” 

And then, he adds, “Or maybe not. I like the feeling of your big arms around me.” 

Jaehee tightens his arms again, laughing quietly despite the thrum of his racing heart. “Me too,” he says, more firmly this time. “Me too, hyung.”

And with that, the room falls into comfortable silence, the kind of quiet that carries more meaning than words ever could. And for the first time in a long while, Jaehee feels like… maybe this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.

Jaehee blinks awake to sunlight filtering through the curtains. He turns his head and immediately sees the most divine sight he could see in his entire life. Yushi is still in his arms, both of his hands are on Jaehee’s chest and the hybrid’s ears twitching with every small sound. His messy hair sticks up at odd angles, and the way he’s nestled into Jaehee makes him look impossibly endearing and Jaehee feels like he’s going to combust.

For a moment, he seriously considers skipping classes—just staying here, watching Yushi breathe softly, listening to the faint purr-like hum escaping his throat. But no, he has a presentation today. Responsibility wins, reluctantly.

Still, he lingers, unable to tear his eyes away. His fingers reach out almost on their own, brushing gently against Yushi’s ears.

To his surprise, Yushi groans out a, “Too early.” 

Jaehee chuckles softly, leaning closer. “Sorry, hyung, but I need to go to classes.”

Yushi opens one eye, pouting like the bratty cat he is. “But… this is comfortable. I don’t want to sleep on the couch anymore,” he mumbles, his tail flicking lazily.

Jaehee cups his face gently, brushing a thumb across his cheek. “Then we can do this every day, okay?”

The hybrid purrs in response, closing his eyes again, ears twitching against Jaehee’s palm.

Reluctantly, Jaehee pulls himself away, feeling the weight of leaving the warmth behind. But just as he sits up, ready to get dressed, he feels a small tug.

“Jaehee…” Yushi murmurs, and before Jaehee can respond, the hybrid has pulled him back down, lying against him again.

“I’m going to be late—” 

A wet kiss lands on his cheek, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Holy shit.

Before he can process it, Yushi already rolls onto his back, burying his face in the pillow, a soft muffled noise escaping.

“H-Hey! That’s not fair!” Jaehee screams, and tries to nudge the pillow away.

Yushi only wiggles lazily, tail brushing across Jaehee’s arm, muttering something incomprehensible under the pillow.

Jaehee sighs, laughing quietly, his face warms. “Fine… fine. You win, hyung. For now.”

Yushi hums again, cozy and unbothered, and Jaehee can’t help but think that mornings like this might just be his new favorite thing.

Whatever this is.

-

It’s almost magical how everything changes after that.

Jaehee comes home to a cat hybrid waiting by the door, arms open for a warm hug, maybe even a tiny, kittenish kiss if he’s feeling generous. Yushi has been learning to cook too, and somehow every single meal is perfect—so good it feels like a gift sent straight from the universe.

Exaggeratedly, Jaehee wants to marry him. But he’s only twenty, and yet it feels like he’s known Yushi his whole life.

It’s been three months since Yushi stumbled into his house, and somehow Jaehee still can’t believe it happened. He might have only just realized his feelings, but in his heart he’s certain it was love at first sight. He tells himself it’s silly, but he can’t help smiling whenever he thinks about it.

Before long, even his classmates start to notice.

“What’s so special about hydraulics, Jaehee? Why are you grinning like that?”

“Nothing. The weather’s just nice today,” he replies with a shy shrug, masking the truth behind a casual smile.

He comes home to cuddles, to Yushi’s quiet and adorable voice, teasing remarks, and those lovely eyes that seem to see right into him.

And yet… he doesn’t know what they are. From the looks of it, they’re more than friends. Definitely more than friends. But they haven’t actually kissed—at least, not on the lips yet.

A tiny spark of fear prickles at him. Maybe this is just Yushi being Yushi, finally letting it all out after keeping it hidden for so long. Maybe he shouldn’t put his hopes up.

Still… he can’t stop himself from smiling.

Jaehee is fully absorbed in his books, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, pencil scratching furiously across the page. He hums softly along to a song playing on his phone, completely unaware of anything else. His mind is running through formulas and lecture points. As much as Jaehee loves his current life, his academics don’t. So he has no choice but to lock in.

That is, until a faint clicking sound makes him pause mid-stroke. He lifts his head and sees Yushi crouched on the floor with phone in hand, tail curling behind him like a living question mark. Apparently, he’s taking pictures of Jaehee from a dozen ridiculous angles—on his stomach, lying across the carpet, peeking around the desk.

“What are you doing?” Jaehee laughs, putting down his pencil.

Yushi straightens slightly, clearing his throat. “It’s a secret,” he says, striking an even more ridiculous pose as his legs bent awkwardly. He looks like a cat caught mid-pounce.

A memory flashes in Jaehee’s mind, and a devilish grin spreads across his face. “Mhmm… are you going to use all that for your lockscreen?”

Yushi halts in his movements. “You saw that?”

“My father did,” Jaehee teases, watching him redden like a tomato.

“What—that’s so embarrassing!” Yushi squeaks, turning his head away.

“It’s cute,” Jaehee insists, leaning back slightly. “You like meeee.”

Yushi’s answer comes out so abruptly, Jaehee doesn’t have the time to prepare himself. “I do.”

Jaehee's jaw drops in a second as his eyes go wide. “Hyung… are you serious?” 

Yushi is still red when his eyebrows knit together, lifting his head slightly. “I am…? Are you not?”

Wait.

Oh.

So Yushi knows exactly how he feels too.

“Of course I am, I just… don’t know what we—”

Jaehee’s words get Yushi to jump up suddenly, indignant like a scolding child. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Well, we haven’t talked about it—”

“But I kissed you!” Yushi blurts, voice rising in frustration.

“Yeah! On the cheeks, hyung—” Jaehee starts, but his words fade under Yushi’s expectant glare.

Yushi tilts his head questioningly, ears twitching. “Doesn’t that count?”

Jaehee exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

The hybrid bites his lip, a mix of mischief and nerves in his eyes. “…But I’ve been trying to scent you…”

Jaehee’s mind immediately plays the image of Yushi and his subtle nudges, the head bumps, the little nuzzles against his neck—like cats marking their favorite person. He’s been brushing them off as habits, but now, with Yushi’s words hanging in the air, it all makes sense.

“…How would I know that means something?” Jaehee grumbles, heart thudding wildly.

Yushi takes a step closer, so close that Jaehee can feel the heat radiating off his body. His chest rises and falls with shallow breaths, and for a moment, Jaehee’s brain stops functioning altogether. He’s not sure if it’s the proximity or the way Yushi’s ears twitch slightly, betraying the faintest blush.

“I thought we were… already like Sion and Riku,” Yushi huffs, clearly upset. His tail swishes behind him with a faint flick of annoyance. “Am I just your cat?”

“Of course not! You’re my Yushi hyung,” Jaehee insists, reaching out to hold the older’s hands. His fingers curl around Yushi’s.

Yushi looks like he wants to hide a blush, but he keeps his sulky expression. “…Then why do you think I would do that to anyone?”

Jaehee swallows, then carefully lifts Yushi’s hands and places them gently against his own cheeks. “I’m sorry. I just… I want to hear confirmation.”

For a long moment, they just stare at each other. The air feels thick, almost vibrating with anticipation. Jaehee notices the soft pink at the tip of Yushi’s ears, the way his eyes glimmer, the delicate curve of his lips—and he doesn’t think he can ever look away.

Finally, Yushi exhales, a quiet, almost teasing sigh. “…So, can we finally be mates now?”

Jaehee chokes on air. “Mates?” He forgets for a second how traditional Yushi can be.

Of course he would label the word ‘boyfriends’ as mates. 

Before he can fully process it, Yushi already drops himself onto Jaehee’s lap, shoving aside any remaining formalities. His small frame fits perfectly against Jaehee, and Jaehee instinctively wraps his arms around Yushi’s waist, holding him securely.

“Yeah. Mates. You’re my mate.” Yushi says, his face so serious it almost makes him look a little stupid.

“Mhmm, mates,” Jaehee giggles, heart practically bursting from his chest.

Their foreheads touch as they both dissolve into a giggle fit. Jaehee feels his pulse spike. He’s never seen Yushi so open and close. Sure, they’ve spent nights curled up together recently, but seeing him this close; after he finally reveals his feelings, Jaehee thinks he’s never looked prettier than in this moment. He can’t stop staring at those pink lips, the slight curve of the bottom one, and—before he even realizes it—they’re leaning in, moving together naturally.

Their lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss at first. Jaehee feels the warmth and the slight tremble of Yushi’s mouth. Yushi hums softly into the kiss, tilting his head just slightly, deepening it without urgency.

Jaehee’s hands hold Yushi’s face gently, thumbs brushing against the soft skin along his jaw. Yushi’s hands rest lightly on Jaehee’s shoulders, occasionally brushing over his collarbone, small movements that send sparks through Jaehee’s chest.

They break apart for air, foreheads still pressed together, breath mingling as their hearts racing in tandem. The cat hybrid gives a tiny, triumphant smile as his eyes are bright and playful.

“You’re so handsome,” he murmurs, voice soft, almost shy.

“And you’re so pretty and cute,” Jaehee replies, unable to stop the grin from spreading across his face.

They press their lips together again, slower this time, playful, teasing, full of all the love and affection they’ve been building up for months. Small pecks turn into gentle, lingering kisses, noses brushing, Yushi’s ears twitching against Jaehee’s cheek, tails entwining if only in thought.

It’s messy and perfect and intimate in a way that makes Jaehee forget everything else in the world. They pull back briefly, foreheads pressed, smiles soft and hearts full.

“I like you so much,” Yushi whispers.

“I like you a thousand times more,” Jaehee agrees, squeezing him close, feeling like he could stay like this forever.

Jaehee still has a lot of things to figure out—about himself, about school, about what this really means for the two of them. He is not sure what kind of path he will walk. But with Yushi shifting in his lap and pressing soft kisses against his lips, none of it feels so scary anymore. 

And Jaehee knows he can face everything as long as Yushi stays by his side.