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In the world of hybrids, there was a common misconception that dogs were the needy ones. People saw Sanghyeon, a nineteen-year-old golden retriever hybrid with a smile that could power a small city, and assumed he was the one doing the clinging. He was large, warm and had a tail that never seemed to tire of wagging.
But anyone who actually lived in their shared apartment knew the truth.
The real gravity in the room was Anxin.
Anxin, twenty years old and a pitch-black cat hybrid, did not understand the concept of "personal space" unless it was his space that someone else was invading. But when it came to Sanghyeon? Sanghyeon was not a person; he was a pillow, a scratching post, and a permanent mattress.
The sun was barely peeking through the blinds when Sanghyeon’s internal alarm went off. He had a 9:00 AM lecture, and he needed to get up.
However, there was a problem. A five-foot-nine, pitch-black, purring problem.
Anxin was draped across Sanghyeon’s chest like a silk scarf. His head was tucked under Sanghyeon’s chin, his black ears twitching rhythmically with every breath. One of Anxin's legs was hooked over Sanghyeon’s hip, and his tail was wrapped three times around Sanghyeon’s left ankle, anchoring him to the bed.
"Anxin" Sanghyeon whispered, his voice thick with sleep. "Hyung, I have to go."
Anxin’s response was a low, vibrating hum that traveled straight into Sanghyeon’s sternum. He didn't move. In fact, he tightened his grip, digging his blunt nails lightly into the cotton of Sanghyeon’s t-shirt.
"Hyung, seriously. I’m going to be late."
Anxin finally shifted, but not to let go. He slid upward, rubbing his cheek against Sanghyeon’s jawline in a slow, deliberate scent mark.
"Stay" Anxin murmured, his eyes still closed. "The bed is warm. You’re warm."
"I have a degree to earn" Sanghyeon chuckled, reaching up to pet the back of Anxin’s head.
The moment his fingers touched the base of Anxin’s ears, the cat hybrid let out a long, helpless trill. Anxin opened his eyes, large amber orbs that were currently clouded with a needy, sleepy fog. He looked up at Sanghyeon and did the one thing that was guaranteed to win every argument: he head-pressed. He shoved his forehead against Sanghyeon’s nose and stayed there, demanding to be acknowledged.
"You're so sticky today," Sanghyeon complained, though his hand was already moving to scratch that perfect spot behind the ears.
"I'm not sticky," Anxin huffed, though he began to knead Sanghyeon’s shoulder with his paws. Left, right, left, right. "You're just... loud. If you leave, the room gets too quiet. I can't sleep in the quiet."
Sanghyeon sighed, his golden retriever heart melting into a puddle. He knew he was being manipulated. He knew Anxin was perfectly capable of sleeping in silence. But when Anxin looked at him like he was the only source of light in the universe, Sanghyeon couldn't help but be the sun.
"Ten more minutes," Sanghyeon bargained.
Anxin purred, a sound like a small motor running, and tucked himself back into the crook of Sanghyeon’s neck. "Twenty."
By noon, Sanghyeon had finally made it out of bed and was sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by textbooks and half-empty coffee mugs. He was focused. He was determined.
Anxin was in the living room, supposedly watching a movie.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
Then, Sanghyeon felt a presence. He didn't hear anything; Anxin moved like smoke, but the air suddenly felt heavier.
A moment later, a pair of black, furry ears appeared at the edge of his peripheral vision. Anxin didn't say a word. He simply leaned against Sanghyeon’s side, his weight a steady pressure against Sanghyeon’s shoulder.
"Hyung, I'm studying" Sanghyeon said, not looking up from his notes.
Anxin didn't leave. He slid closer, forcing Sanghyeon to move his arm so the cat could crawl into the tiny space between Sanghyeon’s chest and the edge of the table. He didn't care that he was blocking the view of the textbook. He didn't care that he was sitting on Sanghyeon’s laptop.
He just wanted to be there.
"Xin, I can't see the screen," Sanghyeon groaned, but he instinctively wrapped an arm around Anxin’s waist to keep him from falling.
"I'm cold," Anxin lied. The apartment was set to 75 degrees.
"You're not cold. You're bored."
Anxin turned around in the small space, his nose inches from Sanghyeon’s. "I'm not bored. I'm understimulated. My fur feels... lonely."
Sanghyeon burst out laughing. "Your fur is lonely? That’s the best one yet."
Anxin didn't find it funny. He reached out and grabbed Sanghyeon’s face with both hands, his palms soft but firm. "Look at me. I haven't been touched in three hours, Sanghyeon. Three hours. That's a lifetime for a feline."
"I petted you for forty-five minutes after breakfast!"
"Doesn't count. That was 'morning petting.' This is 'afternoon neglect.' " Anxin tilted his head, his tail flicking against Sanghyeon’s ribs. "Just... five minutes. Hold me for five minutes and I'll go away."
Sanghyeon knew "five minutes" meant "until I fall asleep on you." But he looked at Anxin’s wide, expectant eyes and the way his black ears were perked forward, waiting for a rejection he wouldn't be able to handle, and Sanghyeon gave up.
He pushed his books aside and pulled Anxin fully into his lap.
Anxin let out a sigh of pure triumph. He curled up, his head resting on Sanghyeon’s shoulder, and within seconds, the purring started again. It was a constant soundtrack to their lives.
"You're such a baby" Sanghyeon whispered, kissing the top of a black ear.
Anxin didn't argue. He just gripped Sanghyeon’s shirt tighter and fell into a blissful, sticky nap.
Being a sticky cat meant that Anxin was also very territorial. He didn't mind people, but he minded when people took up "Sanghyeon time."
That evening, a friend of Sanghyeon’s from college, a tall Leopard hybrid named Geonwoo, stopped by to drop off a project. Geonwoo was loud and had a heavy hand that he liked to clap onto Sanghyeon’s shoulder.
Anxin was on the couch, watching from behind a book.
The moment Geonwoo walked in, Anxin’s tail began to lash. He didn't like the way the leopard smelled—too much musk, too much "big cat" energy. And he especially didn't like the way the other was leaning into Sanghyeon’s space.
"So, Sanghyeon, are you coming to the party tonight?" Geonwoo asked, laughing at something Sanghyeon had said.
Before Sanghyeon could answer, Anxin was there.
He didn't walk; he glided. He appeared at Sanghyeon’s side, sliding his arm through Sanghyeon’s and leaning his entire body weight against him. He didn't look at Geonwoo. He just looked up at Sanghyeon with a look of exaggerated, wide-eyed affection.
"Sanghyeon-ah," Anxin said, his voice dripping with sweetness. "I thought we were going to finish that movie. You promised."
Sanghyeon blinked, confused. "What? We didn't-"
Anxin pinched Sanghyeon’s arm, a tiny, sharp warning.
"Oh! Right. The... movie," Sanghyeon stammered, catching on.
Geonwoo looked at Anxin, then at Sanghyeon, and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you guys had plans."
Anxin finally turned to look at the leopard. He didn't hiss; that would be beneath him, but he blinked a cold, predatory stare that said, 'This is my heater. Find your own.'
Once Geonwoo left, Sanghyeon turned to Anxin, half-amused and half-exasperated. "You were being a brat."
Anxin let go of Sanghyeon’s arm and walked back to the couch, his nose in the air. "I was being efficient. He was taking up too much of your oxygen."
"He was here for five minutes!"
Anxin sat down and immediately patted the spot next to him. "Five minutes too long. Come here. I need to be compensated for the social stress."
Sanghyeon shook his head, his own tail wagging despite himself. He walked over and flopped onto the couch, and within a millisecond, Anxin was on top of him again. He didn't just sit next to him; he sat on him, his black tail twining around Sanghyeon’s arm like a vine.
The day ended as it always did: with Sanghyeon trying to move and Anxin refusing to let him.
They were watching TV; the lights were dimmed low. Anxin was essentially a permanent fixture on Sanghyeon’s lap at this point.
"Hyung, I'm going to go get a glass of water," Sanghyeon said.
Anxin tightened his arms around Sanghyeon’s neck. "No."
"I'm thirsty."
"Drink my water." Anxin pointed to his own half-full glass on the coffee table.
"That's had your cat spit in it," Sanghyeon laughed.
Anxin pulled back, looking offended. "My spit is premium. You should be honored."
"I just want a fresh glass, Anxin!"
Anxin huffed and finally let go, but the moment Sanghyeon stood up, Anxin followed. He didn't walk behind him; he walked with him, his shoulder brushing Sanghyeon’s the entire way to the kitchen. When Sanghyeon stopped at the sink, Anxin leaned against his back, his arms snaking around Sanghyeon’s waist.
"You're like a shadow," Sanghyeon said, pouring his water.
"I'm a black cat," Anxin reminded him, his voice muffled by Sanghyeon’s shirt. "Shadows are what we do."
Sanghyeon finished his water and turned around in Anxin’s arms. The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the humming of the refrigerator. He looked down at Anxin, who was looking up at him with an expression that wasn't bratty or demanding for once.
It was just... soft.
"You're very clingy today, hyung" Sanghyeon said softly, brushing a stray hair away from Anxin’s forehead.
Anxin leaned into the touch, his ears twitching. "I just... I like the way you feel. You make the world feel less loud."
Sanghyeon’s heart did that familiar, warm ache. He realized then that all of Anxin’s demanding behavior came from a place of genuine, deep-seated need. Anxin didn't just want attention; he wanted Sanghyeon.
"I'm not going anywhere" Sanghyeon promised, leaning down to press their foreheads together.
Anxin’s purr started up again, a low, comforting vibration that seemed to fill the entire kitchen. "You better not. Or I'll have to follow you to class tomorrow."
"Don't you dare."
"I'll sit on your desk."
"Hyung!"
Anxin laughed, a bright, rare sound, and pulled Sanghyeon toward the bedroom. "Come on, Golden Boy. It's time for my night-petting session. And don't think you can skip it just because you're tired."
Sanghyeon followed, his tail wagging a mile a minute. He was the one being "caught" but as he looked at the black-haired boy leading him by the hand, he knew he wouldn't have it any other way.
The sticky cat and the golden dog live a chaotic, purring, wagging mess of a life. And for Sanghyeon, it was perfect.